


Beca Mitchell P.I

by BatwingLawyer



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 40,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13317810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatwingLawyer/pseuds/BatwingLawyer
Summary: Private Investigator Beca Mitchell is hired to discover if corporate lawyer and social elite Aubrey Posen is cheating on her husband with a certain redheaded doctor. Beca has witnessed more affairs than she can count but something about this couple draws her in.





	1. Part One

Beca Mitchell internally threatened bodily harm to whoever was on the other end of the phone currently vibrating away on her nightstand and pulling her from sleep. Beca was by no stretch a morning person and being rudely awoken in the middle of the night was even worse. She blindly reached out and groped across the surface of the wood until her fingers closed around her cell and answered it. “Hello?” She swiped at the screen again. “Hello?” When the loud, grating vibrate continued Beca cracked one eye open. She was looking at the home screen of her cell phone; the one that was actually ringing was the burner cell across from her alarm clock. A small jolt of adrenalin infused Beca’s system and she reached for this phone a little quicker. “What?” She demanded without preamble; only one person had this number anyway.

“Good morning sunshine.” The heavily British accented voice set her teeth on edge. 

“What do you got Luke? Its,” Beca glanced at her clock and scowled, “its 5am Luke. This had better be good.” Beca already knew that it had to be; he wouldn’t have called this phone if it wasn’t. 

“You’re always such a peach in the morning, Becky.” Luke chuckled. “I do have a job for you.” Beca groaned and very reluctantly whipped off the warm comforter she had been burrowed in and crawled out of bed. She was pushing her feet into slippers and throwing on a hoodie long enough to fall to her knees when she growled back at Luke.

“And why did you feel the need to call me at 5 fucking a.m. for this job?”

“It’s an important one. And the client wanted work to start first thing this morning. If I waited for your schedule it’d be 8p.m tonight.”

Beca groaned again but didn’t deny the very true claim. “I’m getting to my laptop, hit me.” Beca opened her closet door and pulled a laptop from inside a discarded gym bag in the corner. She flopped back into bed and turned it on. 

“Mr. Thomas Crane wants a job done.” 

Beca’s fingers froze where they had been flying over the keyboard. While she didn’t claim to know everyone at the law firm she was contracted to even she knew Thomas Crane of _Wilkins, Creemore and Crane_. “If it’s for Mr. Crane why are you calling me on this phone?” The pause Luke gave made Beca sit a little straighter and give him her full attention. 

“It’s not for a client or a case for Mr. Crane, it’s for Mr. Crane personally.” Luke finally said. Beca knew Luke never gave her all the details but he didn’t mince words either. 

“So he doesn’t want this connected to the firm.” Beca was blunt. Beca had an official P.I. licence and her contract was held by Wilkins, Creemore and Crane. Lawyers of that calibre always had private investigators on the payroll and it was legitimate, and expected, business. The firm was kind enough to allow Beca freelance work as long as no client or case conflicted with those of the firm and everyone involved knew Beca took those cases. What few people knew was that Wilkins, Creemore and Crane also had another side to their business; a more underground and far less legitimate side. What _almost_ no one knew was that when those few people wanted an off the books sort of job done and they contacted Luke to get it done, Luke still contacted Beca. 

“No he does not.” Luke finally conceded. “He wants a number one special.” 

Beca slowly allowed her fingers to begin typing once more. That, at least, made a little bit of sense. Number one specials, finding out if a spouse was cheating, was Beca’s bread and butter. Beca could understand why a high powered and prestigious lawyer such as Crane would want to keep the situation under wraps. Number one specials were, however, never done off the books. Hiring Beca legitimately meant that her methods had to be legal. This way the proof that she delivered could be handed to lawyers, usually divorce attorneys, and used in settlements and court. Comparatively, off the books meant the methods were Beca’s to choose and were usually never legal. “Why does he want this off the books? I won’t have anything to give him he can actually use.”

“Beca.” Luke’s tone was a tad sharper. “It is not my place, nor yours, to question the client. Mr. Crane contracted me to hire someone to find out if his wife is cheating on him by any means necessary. Are we going to have a problem?”

Beca scowled but said nothing more on the subject. “I’ll be ready for the file and my advance in a moment.” Beca finally hooked her laptop up to the network, because this particular laptop never remained connected for long, created a quick brand new email account, and told Luke she was ready. Within seconds she had an e-transfer of money and an electronic file folder. “Got it.”

“Good. Get this done quickly Beca.” Beca hung up the phone without a goodbye as she was solely concentrated on her laptop. The money was dealt with first and it was transferred and moved through various channels three times while her fingers flew across the keys. The money finally settled in an off-shore account in Côte d’Ivoire; the Ivory Coast was Beca’s favourite country without an extradition treaty with the United States. The electronic file folder was quickly downloaded onto a USB stick and then Beca spent a few minutes deleting its existence from the laptop which was then promptly taken off the network. Beca finally got off the bed, stretched her tiny 5 foot frame to its full height and snagged her keys from the strap of her laptop bag. The USB in her hand, a black one, was clipped on beside 2 other sticks; one orange and one white. 

That taken care of Beca padded through her apartment to the kitchen for coffee; which happened to be the only thing she did in her own kitchen. Beca stared down her Keurig while waiting for it to fill and gulped scalding coffee the second she could. Blinking rapidly Beca headed for her couch and the laptop resting on the glass coffee table. 

Beca opened this computer and immediately began research. She kept her findings strictly to webpages any person with an internet search bar could find. She started with her own employers webpage and a few clicks later she was looking at the three head partners of the firm; more specifically Thomas Crane.

To Beca Crane looked like a typical 35 year old white lawyer. She supposed he could be called attractive; his jaw was masculine, his nose straight, his eyes were gray, and his brown hair was clearly coifed and styled very carefully. In Beca’s opinion he looked a little “cookie cutter” though. Beca scrolled through his degrees and alma maters with a quick but practiced eye. She had no doubt his professional reputation was above reproach. She read through his biography with a little more interest. He was “one of _those_ Crane’s" in Georgia and had therefore grown up with the conservative elite in Milton, Georgia. Beca assumed his career path had been steadfastly chosen for him at birth and that the rest of the Crane clan had very high hopes for their eldest son and progeny. Beca could easily understand Crane’s reluctance to have it common knowledge that his wife was cheating; she doubted he would even allow such a thing into a courtroom. 

Beca finally pulled her attention from Crane to his wife. She was listed on his biography as Aubrey Posen and Beca made a mental note that they did not share a last name. Beca pulled up a Google search on the woman and hesitated with her coffee mug halfway to her lips. This woman was beautiful; like stop you on the street beautiful. It was a good thing that Crane was rich because he had definitely married up if the blonde bombshell Beca was creeping on was any indication. She had gorgeous long blonde locks and was smiling politely in the picture Beca was currently looking at. Her stunning emerald eyes crinkled slightly at the edges and Beca found it utterly charming. 

Another quick search and Beca found that Ms. Posen had definitely not married Crane for his money. It turns out Posen was “one of _those_ Posen’s" in South Carolina and had grown up with the conservative elite herself in Beaufort. Posen, as it turns out, was also a lawyer and Beca assumed her childhood was much the same as her husbands. The only difference was that Crane did high profile criminal cases and Posen did corporate. Crane’s name might be more well-known but Beca made another mental note to figure out which spouse made more money. Beca did a little bit of digging on her background and found she graduated from Yale Law School two years after her husband did.

Beca got up to get more coffee and then turned her attention to their personal lives. She still kept the searches simple; the fancier things would have to wait until later. Beca found the couples personal lives on the internet both informative and completely shrouded in mystery. Beca found many instances of the couple attending various events, anything from law functions to charities and fundraisers, but Beca knew enough about high society to know that it was expected of the couple and not really indicative at all about the couple personally. If they had ever had a scandal it had been hushed or covered up because Beca couldn’t find it. On paper they were a simple, conservative couple of the high society elite and a little on the boring side. 

Beca never bet with herself before a case about whether a client was cheating or not but she couldn’t help but think that maybe Aubrey Posen was simply bored. 

**

Two hours later, finally showered and moderately ready for the day Beca entered her favourite library over an hour away from her apartment. Beca’s apartment was in Midtown but she drove to the Atlanta Central Library in the Downtown area for all her research. She found this gigantic library housed the most diversity and not any one person stood out from any other. In her slightly baggy jeans slung low on narrow hips, beat up black and white converse sneaks, blue and white plaid shirt with her gray laptop bag slung across her body Beca looked like any university student in the area. Her slightly heavy black eyeliner and dark makeup, together with her headphones securely over both ears, she definitely fit the profile for an aggrieved music student. Beca finally found one of her favourite study terminals, one along a side wall and at the back of the line so there was no one to see her screen from behind, and settled into her chair. Beca pulled out her third laptop of the morning. This particular laptop she considered her throw away; should there ever be a reason to she could leave it behind and nothing about it leads back to her. She quickly got it connected to the network; open public networks being the only thing this laptop ever connected to. Beca pulled out her phone and scrolled through her playlists before selecting her Research one. All of Beca’s playlists were carefully constructed for different things; and large selections of the music were of her own making. With the correct music finally playing in her ears, upbeat while soft and catchy but not sing inducing, Beca got down to work.

An hour later and Beca thought she understood a little bit more about this particular case. The file itself was very bare bones; clearly Crane hadn’t wanted to give up a lot about himself. He did include the address of where he and his wife resided and the address of his wife’s law firm; all information Beca could have gleaned for herself with a few keystrokes. The real piece of critical information that Crane had confided to Luke was that he already had some suspicion about _who_ his wife was supposedly having an affair with. Beca read the name twice before quirking her lips in a smirk. 

Typing Ms. Chloe Beale into her computer required a little more digging than Thomas Crane had but within a few minutes Beca had the specific woman she was searching for. Beca conceded that Crane probably had reason to worry; Beale probably made quite a few people think about cheating. Her ginger locks were in gentle curls and her sky blue sparkled in every picture Beca pulled of her. Her skin was a little more tanned than Posen’s but they’d be roughly the same height and Beca knew together they would be fiercely attractive couple; almost to the point of intimidation. 

Digging into Beale’s background showed that Ms. was actually Dr.; Beale was a pediatric surgeon at Grady Memorial Hospital. Beca quickly ruled out law school as a meeting place and ran through the rest of Beale’s educational background. Beca was unsurprised to find that Beale and Posen had been at Barden University in Georgia completing their respective undergrads at the same time. 

Beca checked over the file she had received from Luke again. Crane clearly knew about Beale but he used words and phrases such as “ _become inappropriate_ ” and “ _sinful behaviour_ ” which suggested to Beca that Beale and Posen were known to be friends; and Crane didn’t like it. A quick stop onto her completely fake Facebook account, and a quick hack to get through all involved privacy settings, pretty much assured Beca she had been right. All three Facebook accounts, Cranes, Posen’s, and Beale’s, were all strictly professional. There were no drunk pictures or anything controversial at all. Crane’s was the most boring; he only posted photo’s that looked staged or taken at society events; his wife was always present and both always had fake smiles. Crane occasionally linked to articles regarding court cases or decisions and usually those had a conservative bias. Beca quickly dismissed his account. 

Posen’s was very similar. She linked to similar articles however hers lacked the consistent bias that her husband has. She followed mainstream decisions as well as human rights issues and cases. There were a few more pictures of Posen without her husband; but these were always with other people in suits Beca assumed were her law partners, or Beale. Beca paid special attention to the pictures of both women even though there was very little reason to. The photos were about the least amount of scandalous as Beca dealt with in her business. The most touching was to lean into each other to fit into the picture and the locations were relatively girly places anyway; no one would question why Crane was not there. Beca hesitated for the longest on a picture of the two women outside the 7 Stages Theatre. The bill in the background could easily be read and showed that the two women were taking in the Spectrum Show put on by the International City School of Ballet. Both women were wearing dresses and heels; but the dresses were moderately conservative and completely appropriate. Posen wore white and Beale wore yellow. They easily looked like they could have been put together by a fashion and makeup crew. The reason Beca hesitated on the picture were the smiles. Beale smiled with her entire body; like she had so much happiness it couldn’t quite be contained. Posen’s smile was a little more reserved but one side quirked up a little higher and her eyes shone as they crinkled in the corners. For the first time Beca saw a _real_ Aubrey Posen smile. 

Beale’s account, while still professional, was at least the most human. She had pictures with a clan of redheads that had to be assumed to be her family. She had pictures with dogs and one fat cat. She linked medical journals as well as funny or cute things she’d read. There were pictures of her out with friends but all the pictures that included Posen were similar to those on the blondes account as well. 

Still, nothing that Beca had she could draw a conclusion from. Marriages were not perfect and people were allowed to be happy with their friends. Especially a best friend whose friendship had spanned almost ten years. 

Beca stretched her back and cracked her knuckles and then began the next stage of her research. She pulled up a map of Atlanta and started plotting all of the important places that she knew about so far. Wilkins, Creemore and Crane was near the corner of Forsythe and Williams and Posen’s law office, Weathington McGrew Attorneys at Law, was on Peachtree Street only 4 blocks away. In relation to Posen’s office Beale’s hospital was less than a mile away and probably only 15 minutes in traffic. Beca squinted at the map. It was a very close knit area and high class people. While she didn’t know them and their habits, yet, she couldn’t picture Beale popping in to Posen’s office for a quickie; and even less could she picture Posen popping by the hospital for a romp in an on-call room. No, if these women were having an affair it was at home or in a hotel. 

Crane had provided the address of his and Posen’s home; it was in an upscale neighbourhood in Ansley Park. Beca knew the area by reputation; it was large houses that bordered on plantations or estates and manicured lawns cared for by the help. Beca reasoned both husband and wife had only a 20 minute commute to find themselves out of the suburbs and into the downtown. Beale on the other hand lived in the Virginia Highlands; still in the suburbs but a little less plantation and a little more quant and cute. Posen and Beale were about 10 minutes away door to door. 

Beca was quite pleased with the situation; she’d tracked cheating spouses across state lines before many times. This tiny section of Atlanta, her home turf even, was nothing.

Beca was in the zone now and continued with what she had. Namely, Crane had given up his wife’s email accounts; both her work and her personal account were listed. Beca knew that Posen could have an account hidden from her husband but Beca would find it sooner or later. It took no time at all and Beca had both email accounts open before her and was perusing her emails. She started with the work account. Half an hour later and all Beca had learned was that Posen was a composite professional and control freak; and also possibly a workaholic. Not a single email sent or received from this account had anything to do with something that wasn’t law; and boring corporate law at that. Beca gave Posen a pass and moved on to the personal email. This was a little more interesting; but not by much. This account was clearly used less than the near constant activity on her work account. This account was more social, and Beca meant that in the lowest inflection of the word. Many emails were about charities and donations as well as society events and fundraisers. There were a select few from Posen’s mother talking about people or events Beca couldn’t care less about. One email was from Posen’s father requesting Posen’s presence at a function as he wanted to make a statement to a client with several daughters. 

Beca studiously read the few emails that were from Beale but there wasn’t a single suspicious word in them. The emails were also regarding plans or events, usually months in advance, and the tone was perfectly respectable for best friends. Beca knew even before she hacked into Beale’s respective email account that they clearly didn’t communicate this way; she’d need their phones. 

Beca rechecked the file from Luke one final time. Crane hadn’t included any details about Posen’s habits or frequent locations and Beca wondered if it was because he didn’t know them. Beca finally got up to leave the library. She only saved the map with the locations and even those places weren’t labeled. All of the rest of the information was deleted and wiped from the hard drive of the computer. Beca stowed her things and made her way out of the library the same way she’d come in. She had one more stop to make before truly beginning.

**

It was almost 11 in the morning by the time Beca found him. “Benji.”

“Hey.” The word was drawn out and happy. “How are you Beca?” While he was talking Benji pulled out a very worn deck of playing cards. Beca regarded the young homeless man carefully.

“I’m good, Benji. How are you? You doing okay?” Many would be surprised to hear Beca Mitchell ask after anyone but Benji was one of her soft spots. 

“I’m doing good, yeah.” Beca conceded she’d seen him worse. His hair was curly and unruly but not matted down and his clothes were dirty but not disgusting. 

“Walk with me Benji.” Beca didn’t phrase it as a request. 

“Okay.” He stood easily. “Would you like to pick a card?” He held the deck out towards her and smiled innocently. 

“Oh no, I know you’re too good at magic for me, Benji.” They walked in companionable silence, stopping once to get Benji a hotdog from a street vendor, and if anyone judged Beca for walking with a homeless person they didn’t dare say anything to her face. “I’ve got a job for you, Benji.” Beca finally said when they approached the location. “A new spot for you to sit. Just like last time.”

“I did good last time, didn’t I Beca?” Benji asked in his slightly dreamy voice.

“You did. That’s why I’m asking you again, Benji. You just need to sit and watch someone for me. Let me know every time they come and go. You know the drill. And you can do some magic for people while you do it.”

“I like doing jobs for you Beca.” Benji smiled.

“Good.” Beca pulled out her phone and did a quick Google search of Aubrey Posen. She pulled up her pictures and showed Benji. “This woman works in that tall building just over there,” Beca pointed it out, “I just want to know when she’s actually there.”

“I can do that Beca.” Benji nodded after studying the women. “She would make a lovely magician’s assistant.”

“She would make a lovely pretty much anything.” Beca muttered. “Same as last time, alright. You come through for me and I’ll take care of you.” Beca didn’t mention that she took care of Benji pretty much all the time, even when he wasn’t working for her.

“You’re always very nice to me Beca.”

Beca blushed a little and ignored the young man. “Yes. Well,” she reached into her laptop bag and pulled out one of her burner phones, “my number is already in here, it’s the only one. Send me a text every time you see this woman, let me know if she’s coming or going.”

“You got it.” Benji went to walk away and Beca caught his arm. 

“I’ll bring dinner and lunches by, okay? Do you need anything else?”

Benji simply grinned and shook his head before continuing down the street. Beca pulled out her phone and played on it so it didn’t seem like she was loitering for no reason as she watched him. Benji settled into a little alcove directly across the street from Posen’s law office. As Beca knew they would the few people on the sidewalk paid no attention to him; no one ever did to the homeless. Beca turned on her heel and walked in the other direction back to where she’d left her ride.

**

Beca went to one of her favourite coffee shops in downtown while she considered her game plan. She had settled into a private corner booth, ordered yet another coffee, hooked up her laptop to the open network and settled back in with her headphones on. According to Posen’s emails she worked all the time, easily 50 hour work weeks, and while Beca didn’t actually know the schedule of a Peds surgeon she’d seen a lot of Grey’s Anatomy and figured it had to be a lot. _So when do they even find the time for an affair if they are in fact having one?_

Beca took a large gulp of her coffee and tried to stay awake; going to bed after 2 and getting woken up by Luke had been hell on her concentration today. She needed their schedules and that was all there was to it. Beca lost herself in the music for a moment while she formulated a plan. It was doubtful Posen had any sort of schedule that was regulated by anyone other than herself; which was why she’d gone for older school methods and gotten Benji to watch her. Beale also likely had a very fluid schedule depending on her patients. Beca rubbed her temples softly. She needed their schedules and for that she clearly needed their phones. But to get their phones she needed to know where they’d both be. She growled slightly under her breath; Posen and Beale were not making this easy.

Beca stayed in the coffee shop working until Benji texted her. [Woman leaving office, went to parking garage]. Beca was thankful sometime in the last few hours she had hacked into the DMV and pulled up the vehicle registered in Posen’s name. She used her phone to Google an image of a 2017 BMW M6 in dark blue and sent Benji a screenshot of it. Then she texted him the license plate number and told him to watch for the car too. She doubted that Chloe would be waiting at the law office for her but it didn’t ever hurt to have confirmation. Beca thought it was far more likely that Posen would drive and meet her somewhere. Beca cracked her knuckles again. _Time to earn my keep_. 

Beca hacked into one of her favourite places; the DMV Traffic Camera Department. Police officers used the camera footage all the time but they required warrants; Beca used them illegally so often she had the hack memorized. Beca pulled up the closest traffic camera to the exit of the parking garage Posen used. Beca felt the burner phone vibrate and knew it would be Benji. Beca dutifully watched the camera frame by frame closely until she saw the car she was looking for. _Gotcha_.

Beca then began the painstaking process of tracking the car. She would move several traffic camera’s ahead and rewind the footage and search for Posen’s car. If she passed by the camera Beca continued along the same road. If she didn’t, it meant she had turned somewhere and Beca backtracked to find it. Thankfully Posen wasn’t driving very far; Beca had tracked the route of cars like this for hours. Beca finally watched the car appear to park in a coffee shop parking lot a little off the way of a direct downtown route. 

Beca slammed her laptop closed, threw it in her bag and raced for the door. She always made sure her bill was paid up so she could flee on a moment’s notice. Beca swung her laptop bag around so it was resting comfortably against her back and threw her leg over one of her few prized possessions; a 2016 Kawasaki Ninja 650 ABS Sport. Normally she would take more time to admire the gorgeous black and red machine; but at this moment she was in a hurry. She pulled the helmet on, started her beast and quickly roared into traffic. Beca swerved and sped through the downtown and within several minutes she had pulled into the same parking lot Posen had; in fact she parked beside her. _Damn I’m good_. 

Beca pulled off her helmet, ran her fingers through her long brunette curls for a moment and debated how to play this. In the end she just pulled her headphones back up from her neck to over her ears, slid on dark blue aviators, fixed her laptop bag and walked into the coffee shop. Under the guise of taking off her glasses and adjusting to the light Beca did a quick scan of the place. It was typical looking and nothing really caught Beca’s eye; except of course for the gorgeous blonde in a booth by herself in the corner. Beca never directly looked over at her, instead she just moved silently into line. She ordered another coffee along with a bagel and a muffin and stood off to the side a little while she waited. Posen was on her phone, scrolling not texting, but she didn’t appear to be doing much else. Her briefcase was beside her but she wasn’t taking anything out. _She’s not working, she’s meeting someone and I’d bet I know who_. 

Beca was so intensely watching Posen without actually looking at her that the tap on her shoulder scared the shit out of her. “Jesus fuck!” Beca cursed and spun around as she jumped; she looked straight into sky blue eyes that were filled with both laughter and amusement. 

“I’m sorry.” The ginger said quickly. Beca automatically pulled her headphones from over her ears and settled them against her neck. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Beca’s heart was pounding, both from the fright and from staring Chloe Beale in the eye, but she wasn’t one of the best in this business for no reason. “Yeah, no cool. I’m fine. I wasn’t startled I just,” Beca let herself flush a little, “um, can I help you?”

Beale chuckled and smiled widely; Beca couldn’t help but think of how attractive she was. Beale tipped her chin towards the counter. “Are you Beca? They called your order. Must’ve been a good song you were listening to.” 

Beca whipped back around and gave an embarrassed look to the harassed looking barista. “Sorry dude.” Beca muttered. She glanced back over her shoulder as Beale chuckled again. “Um, Cups.” 

The redhead looked confused. “You need one?”

Beca, in what was only partially acting, wanted to slap herself. “Dude, no. Um, Cups. It’s a song by Lulu and the Lampshades. That’s what I uh, was listening to.” Beca let her voice trial off in embarrassment. 

“Oh!” Beale lit right back up and she paused only to grab her coffee from the barista. “I don’t know the song but I’ll have to look it up.”

Beca kept her eyes somewhere firmly near her feet now and nodded. Beale chuckled again while Beca fled. Beca sat down in a seat conveniently close to where Posen was; but not too close as to be in the way. She quickly set up her laptop and pulled her headphones back over her ears. No one needed to know there was no music playing at all. Beca pulled up her sound mixing program and began to fiddle and tweak. In reality she could do this without paying attention, which was a good thing as she was entirely concentrated on the conversation Posen and Beale were now having. 

“I’m glad you could get away for a little bit.” Posen murmured over her coffee cup. 

Beale hummed, either in contentment of her drink she just sipped or agreement or both, and smiled wide. “Me too. I left my resident in charge, he’ll be fine and he has orders to page me if something happens. How is your day?”

Beca listened closely while they had a perfectly average conversation. Posen talked about a case and client and Beale spoke at length about a procedure she wanted to attempt on one of her patients. Nothing about the conversation screamed affair except perhaps the easy affection they clearly had with one another; but that could just as easily be explained by long term best friends as well. 

It took all of Beca’s will not to react when Beale finally mentioned Crane. “And how is Thomas taking things?” The question was worded carefully and softly.

Beca watched carefully over the top of her laptop as Posen stilled; her posture became a little more rigid and her jaw clenched. “Same. He’s been so busy with the Landon case he wouldn’t notice much. He’s been ignoring me and that suits me just fine.”

Beale titled her head in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Bree. I know this is all hard on you.”

“Stop, Chloe. Everything is fine.” Posen sighed and Beale looked sad for a moment. 

“Have you heard of a band called Lulu and the Lampshades?” Beale asked suddenly; Beca jerked in her chair and immediately reached down into her laptop bag to cover any movement.

Posen laughed a little. “No, should I have?”

“I dunno, they must be interesting.” Beca listened as Beale explained their own meeting a few seconds ago. Beale pulled out her phone and typed in the song. Beca watched both their eyebrows quirk at the intro, when just the cups are taping, but then Luisa begins to sing and both women sink into the song. They were leaning closer together over Beale’s cell as they listened. Beca noticed that they listen to music like people who know something about it. Some people just casually listen to a song but they, like she herself does, truly _listens_ and lets it become a part of her. 

Beale hums when the song is over and then, to Beca’s surprise, swivels in her chair and waves to get her attention. Beca ignores it for a second and then jerks up and looks over at the frantic waving. Beca allows her confused expression to show. Beale waves her over and Beca actually looks behind her for a second. When she turns back around both women are chuckling slightly and Beale waves her over again. “Yes, you.”

Beca quickly runs through a plan in her head and when she stands she purposely walks away from her table on the side with her laptop bag. When she tangles her feet in the bag she picks it up and brings it with her. “Uh, hi? Again.” Beca stutters a little. This time there is no need to fake. Beca rarely makes direct contact with her marks and there is definitely a lot of very attractive woman staring at her right now.

“We just listened to that song you said, Cups? Wow, it was something.”

Beca flushed that they had liked her song selection. “Yeah! Yeah, they’re good. They do good effects and psychedelic work.”

“The song,” Beca hears Posen speak clearly for the first time and Beca can’t help but love her voice, “that’s a cover right? Of When I’m Gone?”

“Yes, yeah. Carter Family, 1931. Definitely an amazing cover.” 

Posen arched an eyebrow at Beca’s quick knowledge. “They your favourite band or something?”

“Um, no. It would be impossible for me to say. There’s too much good music. It depends on the day.”

Beale grinned widely. “I tell Bree that all the time. So what’s your favourite cover right now?”

Beca thought very quickly; not only for a cover but for one they wouldn’t know of. “Uh, probably right now Sturgill Simpson’s In Bloom?” Beca waited a beat for them to shake their heads. “Oh man, he’s a country rocker but he took Nirvana’s In Bloom and gave it an older blues country vibe. Here, I’ve uh, actually got it on me." Beca quickly grabbed her laptop from her own table and set it down between the two women. She then pulled out her keys and inserted the white USB stick. Beale and Posen both had raised eyebrows at the amount of music she pulled up. Beca quickly cued the song and let it play for them. Both women quickly got absorbed, again truly listening to it, and Beca subtly reached into her laptop bag and pulled out a phone like she had to check it. Beca kept the phone tight in her left fist and rest it down on the table. With her right hand she started hand talking and got their attention. “See here, you can feel the Blues roots that Simpson pulls into his style of country.” 

Beale smiled up at Beca when the song finished. “You’re adorable.”

Beca went bright red and stuttered and looked at Posen for help; all she found was a small amused and affectionate grin. “Uh, yeah. Anyway, sorry, I’ll stop bothering you guys now. Um, sorry.” Beca went to grab her laptop but it was Posen, surprisingly, who stopped her.

“You weren’t bothering us. You must really love music?”

“Yeah, well I graduated a music major. And now I intern at a record label. Music’s kind of my life. I don’t know what I’d do without it.” Beca scratched the back of her neck shyly. “Which must sound foolish to a clearly successfully woman,” Beca looked at Posen, “and a freaking doctor.” She eyed Beale’s scrubs. 

“No, no.” Beale was quick to interject. “We love music too. I don’t know what we’d have done without it either.”

Beca opened her mouth to reply when Posen’s phone went off. “Shit, sorry Chlo, I have to get back to the office.”

Beca quickly took her leave. “It was nice, uh, meeting you guys. Or being startled by you or whatever.” With a quick wave Beca took her things back to her table and did everything she could not to watch them gather their things and say goodbye. Both women gave her a little wave as they left and Beca unbidden returned it with a small smile.

Beca forced herself to wait another twenty minutes before leaving the coffee shop and getting back onto her Ninja. She had already gotten Benji’s text saying Posen’s car and then the woman herself had in fact returned to the office. 

It wasn’t until Beca was safely back in her apartment that Beca pulled the phone from her left pocket, the one she’d used in the coffee shop. 

The one that she had turned into a clone phone of Aubrey Posen’s. 

** 

Beca was sprawled across her couch in boxers and an old Atlanta Hawks basketball jersey resolutely _not_ doing her job. One of her favourite playlists was blaring from her wireless surround sound speakers, it had been a requirement when apartment hunting to have very thick walls, and Beca was trying to lose herself in the music. The fact that Beca had to even try was a serious clue something was wrong. 

Beca listened to the complex transitions in the song and she could feel the way it was climbing before a drop. The second wave of musical interlude in the background was perfectly pitched and kept the catchy beat undertone the song had begun with. Normally that would be enough to lose Beca for hours in her own head before she pulled herself to her mixing equipment to try a remix idea that had been swirling in the recesses of her mind.

But now Beca thought about _them_. Aubrey and Chloe. Beca growled and wanted to slap herself. _Posen and Beale. The marks_. It didn’t matter if they were nice people who liked music. Nice people cheated all the time; Beca had more proof to attest to this fact than most people. _They’re nice people, but it’s just a job_.

Beca squared her shoulders and dropped her face into a scowl. Just a job; and it was time to get to it. Beca had plugged her new clone phone into a recording program as soon as she got home. Beca used her throwaway laptop to pull upon the recordings now. In the last 4 hours Posen had been on her phone 17 times. It seemed excessive to Beca but it was in the middle of the work day. Beca spent over an hour listening to each call that had been made; at the end of it Beca had no new information except a sudden appreciation for the subtleties and politics of corporate law. 

Posen was clearly an expert at it. She spoke in a no nonsense, commander-esque type of voice that left no doubt in anyone’s mind who was in charge. Posen was also polite and knowledgeable and she seemed to know exactly when to flatter and when to strong arm. Beca knew she would not want to face the woman in court. 

Beca had to admit that the woman was nothing if not professional while at work; at least while talking on the phone. Beca picked up the phone, leaving it plugged in, and started to manually check her text messages. The clone program did not clone data that had been previously stored before the clone connection was made; meaning Beca only had access to text messages that had come through in the last several hours. There were only 8 of them. 

Beca quickly recognized the conversation thread in the first one as one she herself would have with Luke. Posen clearly had a P.I on retainer. Beca made a mental note to search into the person. Private Investigators was a small circle and chances were Beca knew the person. Professional curtesy might recommend a heads up to the person. Beca considered her options; there was also a chance that Posen’s P.I knew more about her personal life than Posen thought they did. Beca sure as hell knew more about her employers than she let on. The contact was saved just as L.O. and Beca couldn’t decide off the top of her head who that would be. 

The next text message was from someone at Posen’s Law Firm. The message was a simple heads up about a client who had been involved in a car accident and alerting Posen that there might be some repercussions regarding previously scheduled court dates. Beca did a very quick search on her laptop for the clients name to confirm the accident had truly happened. Beca might be lazy most of the time but she was always thorough with her job.

The last message was from Crane himself. Beca noted that Posen’s husband was saved in her phone as “Thomas Crane”. _Not hubby, or husband or even Tom?_ Crane hadn’t expressly said that their marriage was one of convenience and politics but Beca was starting to get that picture. 

Crane’s message to his wife was short, [Senator Billow invited us to CC Sat.].

Posen’s response back was even shorter, [Okay]. 

Beca knew from previous work searching into the elite that CC had to be their Country Club. Senator Brian Billow was a staunch Republican and very conservative. He came from old money and it didn’t surprise Beca at all that he was friendly with the Crane’s and the Posen’s. Beca snorted under her breath. _Old money always sticks with old money_. It was assumed that when the Senator “invited” you to the country club it was less an invite and more of a demand. Beca quickly pulled up the few country clubs that she figured were expensive enough to cater to wealth such as the Senator’s and one quick hack into their databases pulled up their membership registration. 

It turned out all three of them were members of the Druid Hills Golf Club. Beca searched the registration a second time more thoroughly and found Beale was not a member. She wasn’t totally surprised. Beale might be a doctor but she didn’t run in the same circle as Crane. 

Knowing where Posen was going to be on Saturday was only marginally useful. Beca had no reason to go; she thought the chances of Posen and Beale being brazen enough to meet up at Druid Hills where Beale didn’t even have a membership was both ludicrous and frankly nearly impossible. Beca was planning out her Saturday, figuring she might have a check on Beale’s house, when the clone phone dinged with a message sent. 

Beca arched her eyebrow when she saw the message to Beale, [Our lunch date is going to have to be pushed back, Thomas’s and my presence has been requested by Senator Billow]. Beca didn’t put _too_ much stock into the word “date”. It was too common of a phrase to mean much. 

Beale’s response was quick in coming. [Enjoying the beautiful weather on the golf course with a bunch of stuffy white racists and homophobes? I pity you darling]. Beca’s eyes narrowed. “Darling” was a little more forward than date but still, some people were just affectionate. 

[I’m sorry to keep doing this to you Chlo]. 

[It’s fine Bree, I understand. I’m only on call Sunday, why don’t you come over?]

[I’ll be looking forward to it all weekend]. 

[Perfect! I’ve gotta get back to work but I’ll ttyl]. Beale’s last message included a bunch of smiling emoji’s that Beca grudgingly admitted fit her bubbly personality. Beca held the phone and waited for another message but there wasn’t one. 

Beca decided that the women either weren’t having an affair or they were more than the norm cautious about it. Nothing said in the texts was definitive proof by any means and could easily be explained again by close friendship; which neither woman hid having. 

Beca had already broken one rule on this job by making direct contact, and yet it seemed she would still have to dig deeper.

**

Friday morning saw Beca sitting parked in a grey, 4 door Mercedes. As much as Beca loved her bike she constantly had to rent vehicles for the day to better suit her purposes. Beca drank coffee from a travel mug, which had the grounds for 4 cups but only the water for 2, trying to keep herself awake. Beca was so bad in the mornings that in cases like these, where she had been parked in location at 5:30 in the morning, she just never went to bed. 

Her phone was resting on her one thigh, foot crossed over onto the other leg, and she idly scrolled through her music. When Beca was wasting time she had a habit of sorting through her vast collection of music. Setting the sorts to different filters, such as release date or alphabetical by producer, led to songs in different orders and Beca sometimes found inspiration just by seeing songs close to each other for the first time. 

Granted she could probably be working but the clone phone was silent, Posen undoubtedly awake but not at work yet because Benji hadn’t texted, and she had nothing immediately to hack. With the scheduled “date” not for two more days Beca had little to do except exactly what she was doing; namely staking out Beale’s residence. 

Beale lived in a cute home on a nice suburban street. The flower gardens were meticulously maintained and exploding with colour. She had cute lawn ornaments in the shapes of gnomes and animals and all of it sort of screamed kindergarten teacher to Beca. 

Taking a chance Beca had simply gotten Benji to phone the hospital yesterday and ask for Dr. Beale by name. She wasn’t in, as Beca had known she wouldn’t be, but the attendant who answered the phone was very happy to inform the young man that she would be in at 7:00am the next morning. At Beca’s instruction Benji had simply thanked the woman and hung up. Beca made sure the man was fed, she handed over a bagel, a banana and a bottle of water, and left him to his space out front of Posen’s law firm. 

Beca stretched out as best she could with the seat pulled back all the way, she couldn’t come close to touching the pedals, and glanced back up at Beale’s house. She was pretty sure she’d have noticed her leaving and even so, her red Lexus IS250 still sat in the driveway. 

Beca checked the house again. There was no sign outside alerting Beca to a security system but her eye was continually drawn to the bright yellow “Beware of Dog” sign. Beca was taking a chance that Posen had gotten her to put up the sign in case of future liability issues and that the dogs weren’t actually vicious. It was a risky bet; all she had to go on was Beale’s Facebook pictures with her pets.

Movement finally caught Beca’s eye and she watched Beale, in black jeans, a red top and a white peacoat, make her way to her car carrying a briefcase and a travel mug. She looked gorgeous, anyone with eyes could notice that, and Beca nearly shuddered at how she was already smiling bright this early in the morning. 

Beca watched her drive away and then waited the requisite thirty minutes. It was foolish to get caught because someone had come back for something; it also looked suspicious approaching a house someone had vacated minutes before.

A few of the neighbours lights flicked on and with people waking up Beca knew she needed to make her move. Beca got out of the car, slung her laptop bag across her body and walked confidently up the drive to Beale’s house. Beca hit the porch and rang the doorbell. She heard some scuffling but no barking; either the dogs were well trained or they were lazy. Either could work in Beca’s favour. 

Beca waited, pulled out her phone like she was calling someone and loitered on the porch, even stepping back as if trying to find the house number. Beca mimed actually speaking to someone for a moment and began hand talking, finally making a gesture around the side of the house and then promptly walking in that direction. 

Beca was dressed in blue jeans and a black hoody, her hair had been straightened, which it never was, and she held a black laptop bag she only used for these occasions. There was literally nothing distinguishing about her at all. 

She walked tall, without slinking, like she had every right to be where she was. Beale’s gate had a latch but no lock and the private investigator was soon into her backyard. She had no flowers back here, Beca assumed because of the dogs, but the backyard was still lovely. She had a few bushes and a maple tree and a pine deck overlooking the whole yard. Her patio furniture was nice and cleaned and Beca could see the care Beale put into things that were hers. 

Beca ignored the sliding glass door that led presumably into the kitchen from the deck and walked around to the side. There was a side door, just as Beca had seen when she’d pulled up satellite pictures of the house last night. 

Black leather gloves were the first things Beca pulled from her laptop bag; lock picks were the second. Beca had been picking locks since she was a youth and constantly locked out of her apartment; the simple tumbler lock before her now turned after less than a minute.

Beca turned the knob and opened the door one tiny crack. She put the picks away and grabbed something else from her laptop bag; dog treats.

Entering the house Beca was equally on the lookout for cameras and Beale’s pets; she found the dogs first. One golden retriever and one shorthaired pointer trot forward to investigate Beca. She shook the dog treat bag gently and spills treats onto the floor. “You know, back in the day this would have been steak.” Beca whispered at the dogs that were happily munching on the floor. “Good dogs.” Beca searched everywhere in her eyesight but couldn’t find a camera anywhere. She finally assumed Beale has no advanced security system. Beca glanced again at the dogs with tails wagging. “Hope she wasn’t depending on you two.” Beca wiped her feet on the mat and began looking around the home.

Clean, well decorated and colourful were her first impressions. Beale seemed to have a thing for colour; her furniture is all white and grey with bright coloured pillows and the art on her walls are all flowers or landscapes or abstract shocks of colour. Beca began her search where she always does; at the computer. 

She finds Beale’s laptop in her office and it took Beca very little effort to get into it. Plugging the orange USB stick into the laptop she quickly bypasses the lock screen to the command prompt and runs the password program. Beale had no other electronic protection on it and Beca rolled her eyes a little. Beca is soon flying through Beale’s computer. She copies every picture and document saved onto the hard drive onto her black USB stick; she won’t look through it until safely out of the house. Beca searches through some more and decides, when she finds no trace of it, that she was right in assuming the house had no surveillance security; at least not by a professional company. 

Once the computer had given Beca all it had to give Beca erased any trace of her having been on it, removed her USB stick and continued on. Beca pulled her “sweeper” out of her laptop bag next. Many P.I’s, and burglars, had been caught by focusing on professional security and not the simple stuff. One of Beca’s mentors had once been caught by a nanny cam. Beca picked up her sweeper device; it was about the size of cell phone and had an antenna on it. Beca quickly swept the house room by room with the sweeper knowing that the device would alert her to any electronic device. Nothing was amiss and the only pings from the device were the obvious household electronics. 

Beca finally relaxed one degree and decided she had free reign of the house for a little while. She didn’t want to take too long but she did need to investigate. She went back to the office and started there. She scanned the two walls of books quickly; medical books and romance novels seemed to be all the redhead read. Beca moved closer to examine a picture frame on the wall.

A group of women all wearing similar outfits were posed on stage with a trophy clearly mid-celebration. Beca could easily pick out of the vibrant red hair of Beale; she could just as easily tell who the slightly taller blonde was at her side. Posen and Beale had their arms around each other and Beale was holding hands with a brunette on her other side. They all seemed so happy and Beca felt a little pang of jealously; she had never been that happy.

Beca moved on from the photo and quickly checked the photo in a standing frame on her desk. Beca recognized the red headed clan from her Facebook and gathered it to be her family. It took only seconds to pick open the lock on the filling cabinet but Beca found only patient files. The desk itself held nothing of note but Beca flipped through it quickly anyway. 

Next stop was the kitchen. Out of habit Beca checked out her fridge and her cupboards. Only a lot of years’ experience in this business let Beca pick out a few details. The fridge held both skim and almond milk as well as two different brands of yoghurt. Spinning around the stand that held the redheads Keurig coffee cups Beca noticed both a light French vanilla and a dark roast blend. While, again, nothing was concrete yet Beca would be willing to bet that someone was in the house enough for their personal preferences to be included. Beca had to admit that chances were it was Posen’s. She wasn’t sure if she’d get around to breaking into Crane’s house, as they would undoubtedly have security, but the gambler in her wanted to bet she’d find dark roast coffee and almond milk. 

Beca moved through the house with clinical efficiency. As a general rule Beca disliked all people and never felt too guilty about rifling through their things. Her throat closed a few times every time she saw something so _clearly_ Beale though, such as her CD collection or the artwork of sick children collected in her living room, but Beca forced those hesitations away. 

As always, Beca saved Beale’s bedroom for last. It was slightly less vibrantly colourful than the rest of the house; it was a touch more elegant in tones of grey’s and purples. Pieces of Beale still shone through though in the art and the bright cherry wood bedroom set. Beca noticed the queen bed had two sets of pillows, one for the right and one for the left, and she rolled her eyes. Beca continued to check the room out; her hands shook a little as she rifled through Beale’s dresser and closet though. 

Beca, again, through years of experience noticed things in the bedroom that someone might pass over. For example when Beca noticed two different sections of professional dress pants she checked the sizes; one set was a size longer in the leg than the other. Exiting the redhead’s admittedly nice walk-in closet took her to one side of the bed; as well as the photo on the night stand. 

It was them, of course. It was possibly the most intimate picture she’d seen of the women yet. Beale’s arm was draped around Posen’s shoulders and the blonde blushed beautifully while Beale laid a smacking kiss on her cheek. Beca studied the photo for probably longer than she should have; it was just such a beautiful canid photo. Both women were beautiful, obviously, but their affection for each shone through easily. The smile on Posen’s face was the most genuine Beca had seen. It was beginning to not surprise her that it was with her best friend and not her husband. 

The photo was placed back exactly where she’d found it and Beca did a final sweep of the room. She checked for hidden compartments in the dresser, even though she hadn’t found any in her desk and Beale didn’t seem the type, and gave the room a final once over. She finally left, deciding she’d been long enough inside the house.

The dogs sniffed her as she left the way she’d come and Beca stopped to give them a pat. “Good dogs. Bad guards.” She made sure the dogs had thoroughly cleaned the floor where she’d dumped dog treats before she left.

Beca opened the door and flicked the lock and turned the handle back and forth a multitude of times. She seriously doubted that Beale would recognize the little stick in the lock the next time she used it as a tell-tale sign it had been picked but again, Beca was anything if not thorough.

Beca finally left and headed back to her rented vehicle after a job well done. She tried not to wonder about why she felt like throwing up. 

**

_“Gone through the window_  
_Out of sight_  
_Never again to be seen_  
_Lost and confused now_  
_Don’t know where to go_  
_Don’t know where to go”_

The only reason Beca knew that someone was calling, because she definitely couldn’t hear it over the music blaring in her apartment, was that the phone was resting on her chest while she lounged on the couch. “What?”

There was a longer than normal pause. “What in Gods name are you listening to?” His miffed voice made Beca smirk. She let the music wash over her and pull her back to reality before she answered.

_“When the time has come for me to say goodbye_  
_I’ll look upon that moment and I won't hide”_

“Lillix. Lost and Confused.”

“Becky. Why do you listen to music no one has ever heard of? And for fucks sake turn it down.”

Beca did as he asked but now her scowl was back. “What do you want Luke?”

“You know what I want. An update about the Crane case. He’s an important man Beca.” His voice sounded even more patronizing with his accent and Beca’s scowl deepened.

“I know who he is. I didn’t call because I don’t have an answer yet.”

“Bullshit. Is the wife screwing around or what?”

Beca hesitated. _Just a job._ “Probably. And probably for a while.”

“But you have no proof.” It was not a question. 

“No. But the picture is being painted and my gut says affair.”

“Well I can’t go to Thomas Crane with that. He needs proof.” Luke’s voice was getting more serious.

“Yeah, proof that can’t ever make it into a divorce proceeding.” She couldn’t help but snark. 

Luke sighed. “Find me something. If you don-”

“Are you in contact with Crane?” Beca cut him off.

The British man huffed but answered. “I could be.”

“Then tell him to go out of town.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jesus Christ Luke use your head. If you’re going to meet up with your mistress and cheat when is a better time than when your husband is out of town? He schedules all of her free time with high society bullshit and she’s a very busy lawyer.”

Luke was quiet for a beat. “That might be the most words you’ve ever spoken in one go to me before, Beca.” Luke’s voice wasn’t an accusation; yet. Beca wisely chose to stay silent. “Okay, I’ll run the plan by him. How would you like me to inform you if-”

“I’ll know. And I’ll get your proof.” Beca unceremoniously hung up on him. Her burner phone was then chucked violently across the room. 

**

Beca had spent nearly an entire day hacking deeply into the women’s background. She had everything from tax records to college transcripts; basically anything the women had ever done somehow or another found its way back to Beca. The private investigator almost didn’t like what she had found. It was nothing against the women; they were both upstanding. Both made large donations to various charities and causes and they volunteered their time constantly. Beale had gained a reputation for going the extra mile for any child to pass through her ward; including waving her own surgical fee for families that couldn’t afford their healthcare. Posen completed far more than the regulation required pro bono cases outside of her corporate law purview. She also sat on the board for various Human Rights and Inclusion social councils. Neither had any slight on their professional careers and even in their college days had seemingly never been in trouble. 

Beca mostly didn’t like what she was finding because her usual marks were scumbags. It was easy to dislike a jerk; easy to invade the privacy of a jackass; easy to do her job. This one was becoming difficult. 

The clone phone sat on her thigh while she mixed because she knew today, at some point, was the arranged lunch date at Beale’s. It was several mixes later when it finally vibrated with a call. Beca instantly killed her music and clicked the recording program; she hit the instant feedback when the call was answered. 

“Hey Bree.” Beale’s bright voice answered happily.

“Hey Chlo, I’ve got great news. And a surprise.”

Beale squealed in apparent joy. “Mmm I love surprises.”

“I know you do.” Posen chuckled. “Thomas has gone away for the day, some emergency day trip for the firm.”

“And I’m assuming that because you said good news you don’t have to go?”

“I’m literally stepping out the door and on my way to you right now.”

Beale squealed again; her pleasure was apparent even to the cynical Beca. “Why aren’t you already here?” Was the chiding reply. Beca chuckled a little; Beale apparently couldn’t sound stern if her life depended on it.

“Was just waiting for him to leave. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Mkay. I can’t wait. I love you.”

“Love you baby.”

The call disconnected and Beca sighed. She stopped the program from recording and then downloaded the file with the call. She plugged in her USB that had the case file on it and dropped the phone call into a waiting folder labeled “proof”.

Feeling like an utter piece of shit Beca then quickly pulled up another program. She keyed in the code required to start the viewing of the wireless feed; within seconds she was looking into Beale’s living room. Beca flipped the view to show her the bedroom. She had only risked placing two camera’s into Beale’s house; one in her bedroom for obvious reasons, and one that showed most of the kitchen, some of the living and the front door. Beca caught sight of Beale in her bedroom and she quickly flipped it to the other camera. Posen wasn’t there yet and so she didn’t need to see what the redhead was doing. 

She forced herself off the couch and over to the beat up wooden end table that held all of her liquor bottles. She wasn’t sure if the bottle of rye she grabbed would make the sinking feeling in her gut better or worse but she knew she needed something to get through this video. She threw herself back down on the couch and saw only a few minutes later, on the screen, both dogs run over to the door. Beca prayed to a God she didn’t believe in that the women weren’t actually having an affair so that she wouldn’t have to destroy their lives by telling Crane. 

Beale threw open the door and she was almost vibrating in excitement just like her dogs were. Posen stepped through the door and smiled and nodded politely. _That’s it. Just keep being polite and friendly_. 

The door closed behind her and the friendliness stopped.

Beale was already reaching up to drape her hands around the slightly taller woman’s neck when Posen reached out herself and grabbed Beale’s hips to pull her closer. Posen let her back hit the door and Beale let her body rest completely flush against her. 

Beca forced herself to look over the screen of her laptop, and eye somewhere blankly on the wall, when their lips met because she felt like such a disgusting voyeur. Beca had lost count of the amount of couples she had watched cheat. She generally didn’t watch the actual _act_ per say, but it usually took more than a kiss to make her feel like this. Like she hated her job.

She flicked her eyes back down to the screen, after taking a swig straight from her liquor bottle, and what she saw possibly made her feel worse.

Generally, when couples cheat, Beca watches their heat and passion. She watches usually drunken, lust filled encounters that burn hot like a flare and then fizzle out just as quickly.

That wasn’t what she was watching now. Sure, Posen and Beale had chemistry. They had heat and passion and even from a tiny pinhole camera from across the room Beca could see the lust etched clearly on both of their faces. 

But they also clearly adored each other. They moved together with such familiarity and comfort; Beca had never been with someone in her life where she shared what these two women clearly shared. They weren’t even kissing now. Posen was still pressed up against the door and Beale was pressed into her front, but the ginger was nuzzling her face into the crook of Posen’s neck and while the blonde had Beale carefully, protectively, tucked in the circle of her arms she was also running her fingers through ginger locks with a look of such utter contentment, and affection, displayed easily on her beautiful features. 

Beale eventually leaned in and with a spontaneous, and happy, quick kiss on Posen’s lips she finally led the blonde away from the front door. Beca assumed they’d head straight for the bedroom and prepared herself to look away when they started stripping because she just could not, _would not_ , watch them do that. Her stomach rolled again and she forced another mouthful of rye down.

The beautiful couple surprised her. They didn’t head for the bedroom; they headed for the kitchen. They moved with perfect synchronicity and grace as they moved about Beale’s kitchen. They didn’t speak, Beca could tell even though she had no audio, but they never bumped into each other or reached for the same thing. Posen was making coffees, two completely different cups she knew how to prepare without hesitating, and Beale was preparing a light lunch. As they moved about the kitchen, almost dancing, they touched each other constantly. Fingers trailing lightly down spines or gripped gently on a hipbone. They leaned in for quick kisses and brushed hair lovingly to tuck it behind an ear. 

_Lovingly_. 

Beca had never experienced it for herself, or had a role model to show it to her, but Beca could still see it as clearly as she heard it in those love songs she appreciated but never truly understood. The two were in love. Deeply, completely, fathomlessly in love with each other.

Beca felt sick to her stomach. 

Posen was now sitting at the breakfast nook and Beale was behind her rubbing the tension out of the blonde’s shoulders. Beca couldn’t see their faces because of where the camera was located but the image was probably burned into her retinas for life. 

Beca made sure the camera program was still recording but she switched her screen over to her music and instantly played the heaviest rock music she had in her library. It was already deafening and she turned it up louder. It didn’t help. Five songs later and she was still thinking about what was happening on the screen; what was happening over at Dr. Chloe Beale’s home. The affair currently taking place that didn’t seem like an affair at all. Beca didn’t even try to convince herself that these two women weren’t different anymore.

When her phone rang she was grateful for the distraction even though it was _that_ phone. She downed more rye before she answered it. “What.” Too late, Beca realized that her voice lacked the usual bite she normally answered with; she just sounded sad. 

Luke didn’t mention it. “Do you have the proof you need?”

Beca nearly bit through her tongue. “I have…something.” She said eventually. Carefully.

Luke wasn’t having it. “What do you have, Beca? Do you have proof of the affair or not?” Beca was still thinking through how to answer when Luke practically growled and spoke again. “This isn’t a difficult question, Beca, do you have some fucking proof or not? Crane is on my ass because he has someone on standby waiting for confirmation.”

Beca went pale; all the blood drained from her face and she swayed where she sat on the couch. She knew that Wilkins, Creemore and Crane did some illegal things; hell, she did many illegal things for them personally. And while she had no direct knowledge of it she assumed she wasn’t the only person on the under the table payroll. Beca did not want to know any more than she had already heard about who Crane had _on standby_ waiting for her confirmation that his wife was cheating. About his wife’s affair that he for whatever reason didn’t need information that could be brought up in court. 

Beca’s name was attached to this. Luke, and Crane, knew that she had been working on this. There was only one thing that Beca could do. It took her several tries to actually clear her throat enough to speak. “I’ll come in and show you what I have.” 

“Good.” Luke said instantly. “I’ll see for myself and decide.” He promptly hung up the phone and Beca just let hers slip from her fingers. She clicked the spacebar on her laptop, pausing the music, and flicked it back over to the camera. She was looking at an empty kitchen and hit the key to change cameras.

They were together in her bedroom. Beca felt like either time had frozen or she’d been paralyzed. Chloe was completely naked and spread out on her bed. Her legs dangled over the edge, her hands were clenching in the sheets and her ginger hair was in disarray and fanned out wildly. Her body was beautifully toned and curved; her breasts, nipples rosy and begging for attention, almost bounced as Chloe’s chest heaved for breath. 

Aubrey, naked except for the black silk panties she still wore, was on her knees on the floor and between her lovers thighs. She seemed to be still teasing the redhead, kissing and licking and biting the insides of Chloe’s thighs, laving attention on silky skin but avoiding where Chloe wanted attention the most. 

Chloe reached down then and threaded her fingers into her lover’s blonde hair. The grip was tight and commanding but not painful; Aubrey heeded the order. Her tongue flicked out and she licked Chloe’s sex from bottom to top. She swirled her tongue several times around Chloe’s clit and caused the redhead’s hips to buck upwards. Aubrey brought one hand around to hold her in place on the bed and the other hand slid upwards until manicured nails were pulling and lightly twisting one of her nipples. Chloe arched her back into the touch and tried to thrust her hips again as Aubrey now teased her opening with her tongue; she’d circle it and dip her tongue inside only to pull out and move up to circle and suck lightly on her clit again. Almost without any warning Aubrey moved the hand that had been holding Chloe in place and slid two _long_ fingers inside her lover’s wet heat. When she curled those fingers inside, blunt nails gently scraping her front wall, Chloe’s mouth opened in a long moan as her hips moved in a more desperate rhythm. 

Beca’s hand lashed out and she flung the laptop off the table. She was scrambling over the back of the couch and racing for the bathroom; she didn’t make it. She puked as she dropped to her knees and vomit splattered the outside of the toilet bowl even as Beca leaned over and heaved again. 

The rye burned her throat coming back and her eyes watered, her knees throbbed from dropping suddenly on the tile, and Beca had never felt worse. She deserved this pain. She deserved this sickness.

Because she was about to destroy those women.

It took Beca only 10 minutes to throw on some clothes, brush her teeth twice, and get somewhat decent. She left the mess in her bathroom to further punish herself. She gathered her laptop, resolutely not looking when she halted the camera program, that had her other proof and her keys and she was out the door. Luke was not a patient person, she knew, but she needed another 10 minutes standing outside in the fresh air before she felt safe enough to climb onto her motorcycle. With the laptop bag on her back she jammed on her helmet, not caring about her hair at all, and slung her leg over her Ninja. Starting the powerful machine didn’t bring her the same sense of excitement it normally did and she pulled out of her parking lot and onto the road with barely any concern for her own safety. Every block she drove she felt worse and worse. 

She drove the bike mechanically; and dangerously. She wove in and out of traffic almost wishing that someone would hit her because then she wouldn’t have to go and deliver the laptop that would ruin two people. Two people who were beautiful, inside and out. Beca refused to think about how extensively, _or literally_ , their lives would be over. 

A beautiful, blonde lawyer who spends her money on charity and goes home after a full day’s work and fights some more for human rights and equality in her spare time. The beautiful, redheaded doctor who spends her days and nights and spare time saving children just because she can and believes in what she’s doing. Two women who share a love that Beca envied. That she was jealous of. 

That she wished she had.

Beca swerved at the last second to avoid a pickup truck that almost clipped her back wheel and Beca speed wobbled on her motorcycle before she righted herself properly, fishtailed and continued speeding down the road. She pushed herself harder now, faster, as tears she hadn’t let fall in fifteen years stung her eyes and she raced to her destination. 

When she finally skidded the bike to a stop, leaving a black trail on the road, Beca practically fell off the bike and started walking before she’d even pulled her helmet off her head. Her long brunette hair finally tumbled free and she clenched her helmet tightly with both hands to stop the shaking. Her laptop bag, with that goddamned video inside, tapped rhythmically on the back on her legs as she walked; reminding her with each step that it was there.

Beca knocked on the door gently with her boot; her hands were locked and white around the jaw piece of her helmet and she doubted she could move them. She was about to knock again when the door opened and Beca looked up slightly into Chloe Beale’s bright blue gaze. 

Beca couldn’t bring herself to speak and instead she just watched Chloe. The woman politely arched an eyebrow at the mute standing on her doorstep. Beca watched her expression change from polite interest to recognition. Beca was surprised, and something in her hollow chest twinged, when she realized that Chloe seemed surprised and yet delighted to recognize the shy, awkward girl she’s startled at the coffee shop. Beca watched that expression quickly morph to suspicion when Beca continued to stand there looking like she was facing a firing squad. “What are you doing here?”

Beca swallowed twice to be able to speak. “Can I come in?”

Chloe’s eyebrows rose in surprise and she looked like she was at a loss for words. That was when the door opened farther and Aubrey made herself known. The expressions on her face morphed to suspicion much faster. “She asked you what you were doing here.” 

Beca hated that Aubrey’s voice, that musical, lyrical voice was tight with suspicion and fear. “I’ll tell you, but I think it’s better we discuss this inside.”

Aubrey shifted now; moving closer. Beca could see the protectiveness for her lover welling inside her and Beca’s broken heart gave another twinge. “You expect us to let a complete stranger into our house without knowing what you’re doing here?” Aubrey’s voice was sharp now. Beca hadn’t heard her in court but she’d heard her on the phone and knew that’s what Aubrey’s courtroom voice sounded like.

Beca sighed. “My name is Beca Mitchell.” She waited to see if Aubrey would recognize the name. “I’m a Private Investigator contracted by Wilkins, Creemore and Crane.” She would have had to be blind not to see how both women tensed. “I’m the investigator your husband hired, Ms. Posen, to find out if you were having an affair.” She said the words in her hollow voice, trying not to let the disgust she felt at herself leak out all over them.

Aubrey looked ready to lash out and bolt. Her fear was written plainly on her face and she looked like she was turning that into anger as a defense. Beca was sure that the door was about to be slammed in her face until Chloe laid a gentle hand on Aubrey’s arm. The redhead looked scared, heartbroken, and a little afraid; but she didn’t look angry. “Come in.” Chloe stepped back to allow Beca some room.

“Chloe!” Aubrey hissed, but Chloe kept a hand on her arm.

“She came here, Bree.” She said softly like that explained everything. Beca stepped through into Chloe’s house and shifted awkwardly on the front mat. A slight woof brought her gaze up and she finally removed one hand from her helmet to pat the dogs that had come over to her with tails wagging. 

She practically heard Aubrey’s jaw snap together with an audible click and she glanced up to see Chloe’s deeply upset gaze. “Met my dogs already, have you?”

Beca’s insides shriveled and she swallowed down bile.

“Explain yourself. Now.” Aubrey demanded. 

Beca nodded and cast her gaze somewhere on the floor in front of them. “I was contacted several days ago by one of my bosses, Luke.”

“Luke Troma?” Aubrey asked sharply. 

“Yes. But it wasn’t a regular job. My contract is owned by the company but when I’m hired aboveboard Luke isn’t the one who calls.”

Aubrey’s eyes were narrowed into slits. “But sometimes it isn’t aboveboard.” Beca nodded and Chloe let out a deep sigh. 

“You suspected Thomas and his partners were into some shady dealings.” 

“They are.” Beca confirmed. “I only gather information, which is my actual job. But sometimes Luke calls me and tells me that I can complete my job by any means necessary.” Beca tried not to dig the toe of her boot into the mat. 

“And that’s what happened this time?” Aubrey demanded.

“Yes. Thomas Crane told Luke that he wanted proof if his wife was having an affair or not by any means necessary. He already gave the name he suspected was your lover.” Beca’s eyes flit over to Chloe. “Luke gave the job to me. I thought it was strange because information gathered by illegal means,”

“Isn’t compellable in court.” Aubrey finished with a glare. “And you took the job.”

“I did.”

Aubrey physically moved closer to Chloe like she was a magnet she was drawn to in times of stress and when in need of comfort. “And did you get your proof?”

“I did.”

“Son of a bitch.” Aubrey scowled and Chloe grabbed her arm. “Chloe we need to figure out damage control, you need to get out of town,” Aubrey’s mind was clearly racing and Chloe shook her a little. Aubrey glanced down, her green eyes terrified, to find Chloe still locked on Beca. 

“You came here.” Chloe repeated. “Did you already give the proof to Thomas or your boss?” 

Beca almost sobbed. “No.”

“Then why did you come here?” Chloe’s voice was soft now, soothing, and Beca imagined difficult patients responding to that voice. 

“Because I- I,” Beca cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s not, it wasn’t…” But Beca couldn’t say exactly why. _Why had she come here?_ Her entire professional reputation was on the line; not to mention her life if Crane was as shady as he was appearing. So why was she standing in her marks living room? Why had they been different from the beginning? Why had she allowed herself to speak to them and share music with them? “I deal with shitty, shady people.” Beca finally said, her voice low and her eyes even lower. “I deal with thieves and liars and cheaters.” She felt more than saw Aubrey and Chloe shift at the last word. “I deal with terrible people and I don’t mind my job. Even the cheaters. I watch them pretend for their spouses and lie through their teeth. I watch them have wild affairs with people they barely like and sometimes just to get revenge on their spouses. I don’t care about those people.” Beca was almost crying now and she sniffed to control herself. “Neither of you were like that.” She whispered. “You’re not shitty people you’re…amazing people. Not just smart and successful but kind. And not just kind to clients and coworkers and patients but kind to everybody. Even,” Beca cleared her throat again, “even weird, awkward, women who don’t know how to talk about anything but music.” Beca shrugged. “And you.” She looked up and met Aubrey’s deep, green eyes for only a split second. “You might be married to Crane but…you’re not. I can tell that after a couple of days. Hell, I could tell that on day one after comparing the photos of you with your husband to the photos of you with her. You’re barely lying to him and you’re not faking anything. I just- I cou…can’t. Won’t.” Beca jumped nearly a foot in the air when a hand landed softly on her arm. It was Chloe, smiling softly through the tears streaming down her face. 

“Thank you.”

Beca almost sobbed again. 

“Come, sit.” Chloe moved a dog aside and led Beca into her living room to sit on the couch. Chloe sat beside her while Aubrey sat across from her in a loveseat. “I understand the position you’ve been put in.” Chloe started. “I’m not going to say I don’t feel…well, violated, but you have to know you have my, our, sincere thanks that you haven’t gone to Thomas.” 

Beca shook her head. “I couldn’t do that to either of you.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. 

Chloe squeezed Beca’s forearm, where she still held, before turning to Aubrey. “What do we do, Bree?”

Aubrey forced herself to take some calming breaths. “It depends on Ms. Mitchell.” Beca could hear the question and forced her head up.

“I know you need time. _I_ need more time. But to get it, you have to do something for me.” Aubrey bristled and Beca winced. “Do something for me so I can help you.”

Now Chloe looked over sharply. “You’re going to actually help us? I assumed this was just a heads up?”

Beca took her own deep breath. _Yes, Mitchell, when did you decide you were helping them?_ “I’m due at Luke’s right now. I need to have something to show him that will give us some time. Aubrey, you need to call Chloe and have a very specific conversation.” Both sets of eyes welled with hurt when they realized Beca had obviously been listening to them.

“And then what?”

Beca hesitated. “Then, Aubrey you need to leave. Wait outside for a few moments and then ring the bell so Chloe can answer it and you guys can do this day differently. Different greeting, different everything.” Beca uncharacteristically blushed; Chloe looked sad and Aubrey furious. The blonde’s eyes started scanning the room obviously looking for the camera. “Guys, there’s no time.” Beca’s voice was getting a little force back the more she worried; she was invested now and she couldn’t see them get hurt. “I’m already late for Luke’s.” She paused and then forced herself to meet their eyes. Tried to show her sincerity on her face. “I’m trying to help now.”

Chloe nodded first and then Aubrey followed. 

“Okay.” Aubrey nodded. Beca couldn't imagine why they were choosing to trust her but she felt a bit of warmth where she previously only felt cold. “What do you need this phone call to be?”

**

“Becky.” Luke’s voice was cold, calm and serious. “This is seriously all you have?”

Beca shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant. “I don’t know what you want. I can’t make them have an affair.”

Luke sighed. “So you show me this phone call yesterday and I thought we’d have something. I mean, they make plans to stay at Beale’s and have a girls night because Posen’s marriage sucks. And then you spend all the rest of yesterday watching them, what? Braid each other’s hair and have pillow fights?”

“Pillow fights would have been more exciting.” Beca deadpanned. “They didn’t do anything. They made food and binge watched Grey’s Anatomy.” She paused the screen and pointed them out. “They’re sharing a couch but that’s it. They eat some ice cream later. They talk all night long, I’m assuming about Posen’s shitty marriage. They eventually go to sleep and yes in the same bed, but that’s it. They don’t even snuggle.” Beca rolled her eyes. “And then this today.” She reached over Luke’s shoulder and clicked a few buttons on her laptop. She struck a key so the recording would play and suddenly Aubrey’s voice could be heard from the laptop.

_“I’m sorry about last night, Chlo.”_

_“Don’t worry about it, you know I’m always here for you. I don’t mind girls night in.”_

_“When did girls night in become just me bitching and moaning about my husband?”_

_Chloe sighed. “I don’t know, Bree. You should have an affair, I swear.”_

_Aubrey tutted. “Chloe, be serious.”_

The conversation moved on then and Beca hit the spacebar to stop the recording. She shrugged at Luke’s clenched jaw. “My professional opinion on the matter is they’re not having an affair. I can keep on her if you want though.”

Luke finally sighed. “For now, no. I’ll wire you your closing fee. I’ll alert Thomas Crane and if he needs any further services you will be on call.”

“As always.” Beca snarked. Luke now had copies of the, completely staged, video and audio recordings and Beca took her laptop and left Luke’s office. She didn’t breathe properly until she was back on the street and revving her Ninja.

She weaved through the busy city streets, taking care for her life once again, and it took her less than ten minutes to pull her bike into a spot at the coffee shop. She pulled off her helmet and ran her fingers through her hair so she looked somewhat presentable. Yesterday she’d looked like a scrub who had just been sick. Today she tried a little harder and was wearing black skinny jeans, grey motorcycle boots with a red and blue plaid shirt under her leather jacket. Her laptop bag, as always, was slung over her shoulder. 

This time when she entered the coffee shop she purposefully looked around for them and they were waiting for her. In the same booth as last time she found Chloe and Aubrey, sitting on the same side of the booth, watching her with anxious expressions. Beca allowed her lips to quirk into a smile and nodded as she approached. Chloe showed her relief more obviously than Aubrey did but Beca could read it in green eyes anyway.

She took a seat down across from them and Aubrey was all business. “Did Luke buy it?”

“Of course he did.” Beca nodded. “It’s hard to dispute video evidence. Or the lack of evidence. You guys did well.”

“You told us what to do.” Chloe smiled. She narrowed her eyes and gestured with her head outside. “That your bike?”

“Mhmm.” Beca couldn’t help her wide smile. “My pride and joy.”

“Mhmm.” Chloe mocked her with a teasing smile. “You know how many people I see in my OR from donercycles?” 

Beca looked sheepish. “I have no doubt. I was almost one of them yesterday on my way to your house.” Chloe’s face hardened, like she shouldn’t joke about something like that, but Aubrey’s actually softened. 

“At least be careful from now on, please.” Aubrey said, her voice gentler than Beca had ever heard it. 

“I promise.” Beca said just as gently. And then, typically, being Beca, she got awkward and shuffled in her seat and reached for a drink she hadn’t ordered yet.

Chloe smirked at seeing it. “How much of our last visit here was actually you?”

Beca blushed. “Like, all of it. I don’t ever talk to a mark. Ever. Letting you bump into me was a mistake enough. Going over to you guys after was completely against the rules.”

“So why did you do it?” Aubrey asked. “Why do any of this, why help us?”

“I told you.” Beca mumbled somewhere in the vicinity of the table. “I just couldn’t. You’re good people.”

Aubrey opened her mouth to maybe press for more but Chloe laid a hand on her arm. Beca was learning that Aubrey was basically mush for any touch from Chloe. “So,” the redhead grinned, “what’s your favourite cover today?”

Beca lit up again and was instantly reaching for her phone. “Okay, so the Haim sisters just did a Shania Twain cover.” Beca was already holding up her left hand as if to forestall an argument while her other hand pulled up the song on her phone. “I know, but you have to listen. They do That Don’t Impress Me Much and it’s such a powerful and moving piece because of how soft it is. People think that covers need to be exuberant or out there or they’ll fall flat to the original but Haim goes completely the other way. They sing it so soft and real, with just sharp guitar licks and the bass frame to hold it and it’s incredible.” Chloe halted the rest of her rant with a simple touch to the back of her hand.

“We believe you. And ladies of the 80’s is kind of our thing.” Chloe smirked.

“We’d love to hear it.” Aubrey added. Beca blushed and clicked the track to play. She was starting to think that maybe she was mush for Chloe’s touch too. And Aubrey’s voice. And both their eyes. 

Beca half closed her eyes as the song played, losing herself in the music as she always did. She hadn’t been lying when she had said the cover was soft but she had no trouble feeling the depth of the emotion behind it. When the song finally ended she glanced up and blushed to find Chloe and Aubrey already watching her with soft, fond smiles. 

“It might be my new favourite song.” Aubrey admitted gently. Beca blushed instantly.

“This might surprise you both but I actually have quite the reputation as a badass, heartless bitch.”

Chloe beamed at her. “That does surprise me, actually. You’re too cute.”

Beca’s blush deepened. “Dude, no. Okay, moving on. What are you two going to do?” Beca felt a little bad about bringing the conversation down again but she wanted to know. Wanted to know if she could help. 

Aubrey sighed deeply, resigned, and Chloe reached under the table to grip her thigh. “It’s…complicated. God,” Aubrey shook her head at herself. “How many times have I heard that in court? How many times have you heard that from a cheating spouse?”

“None of those people were you, Aubrey.” Beca said softly and Chloe grinned at her.

Aubrey gave her a small smile before continuing. “The separation of the Crane and Posen families will destroy the equilibrium of the upper Southern elite.” She shrugged. “That’s just a fact. I wasn’t willing to destroy my family but…” her eyes turned to Chloe and the depth of the emotion in them almost made Beca gasp. “This scared me. This really scared me.” Her voice grew harder. “So now I don’t care. My family can disown me if they want to. Cut me off, take away my inheritance. I don’t care. We can move after, leave Georgia. I have a stellar reputation and will always be able to find corporate work and Chloe has already been headhunted by higher ranked hospitals. We’ll be okay.”

Chloe looked concerned. “I thought you said divorce would be difficult for you in Georgia. That you’d be put through the ringer.” Aubrey’s clenched, but determined, jaw said more than her silence did. “Baby, no.” Chloe said softly. “What else can we do?”

“Nothing, Chlo. You know staying married to him is killing me, I have to divorce him. I’ve always wanted to divorce him for you.” Her voice lowered even more. “I loved you before him and every single day during. The reasons why we did this are long over. We waited too long and Beca coming to help us is the only reason we are not in a very, very different situation right now. Divorce will be difficult because of Thomas’s position and reputation but I can handle it.”

Beca cleared her throat. “Maybe I can help with that.” 

**

Beca finally, after almost two weeks, pulled her rental car into the driveway, past the gated entrance, of the Crane/Posen manor. She knew that Aubrey hadn’t left the house at all today and Chloe had texted her around an hour ago saying she was at the manor as well. The three of them had met up almost daily since the day they’d gotten together after giving the staged evidence to Luke but Chloe and Aubrey still didn’t quite understand how much work Beca had put in over those two weeks to be there today. 

The manor had a security system and Beca, for obvious reasons, could not be seen on it. But to help Aubrey the way she wanted to, she needed to be at the house. That had required looped footage of all the camera’s on the property to be recorded and uploaded to the security company records so that, upon any inspection, it appeared like no one had shown up that day. That had required countless hacks on Beca’s part and two called in favours to colleagues for help. Finally it had been accomplished and even if the security company checked the camera feeds right now they wouldn’t see the black sedan pulling around the circle driveway. The only reason she had still rented a car was because her Ninja was loud and memorable and Aubrey did have neighbours. The couple was waiting for Beca on the porch when she walked around and as had become their way, Chloe stooped to kiss her cheek and Aubrey graced her with a dazzling smile. Chloe was definitely the more tactile of the pair, but Aubrey had a gift of getting her point across with a look and Beca secretly adored getting any attention from either of them. 

Aubrey led them back inside and Beca spared a second to glance around her. It was nice, unquestionably. She didn’t know the names of the artists who did the art on the walls or what decade the antique furniture was from but to Beca it was just stuffy. It didn’t look like Aubrey either. To Beca, Aubrey was found in the understated elegance beside the splash of colour that was Chloe. 

Beca assured them, again, that the camera’s today were not recording but Aubrey never did lose the perfectly straight posture or the slight tension in her muscles. Beca assumed she had never been comfortable inside this mansion and something in Beca’s chest cracked for her. 

“Would you like the tour?” Aubrey said politely.

“No, let’s not hang around more than we have to.” Beca shrugged. “Crane is still at the country club though.”

“How do you know that?” Chloe asked as the blonde led them up an actual, grand staircase. 

“I have someone on him.”

Aubrey chuckled low in her throat. “The same homeless boy you got to watch me?”

Beca blushed but answered. “Yes, actually. Benji. I told you, no one notices the homeless. He said your chicken piccata was delicious by the way.” They both turned and shot her almost identical looks with arched eyebrows. “What? You sent me home with some the other day but I was on my way to see him first so I gave it to him.”

“You survive somehow on the diet of power bars and Mr. Noodles like a starving college student and you gave your one chance of a homecooked meal to your friend whose homeless?” Aubrey’s look matched Chloe’s beaming grin.

“You’re adorable.” 

Beca scowled and Chloe linked their arms together with a laugh. “Just take me to his study.”

Aubrey opened the door down the hallway and gestured them in. “I’m never in here. I have my own office and we don’t share space when we don’t have to.”

“Fair enough. Okay, let’s hit both old and new schools. I’ll do the laptop, Aubrey you manually check the room. Look at anything, in anything, do a full Nancy Drew. Chloe, you’re going to sweep the room.” Beca pulled out her bug sweeper as she was speaking. 

“This the one you checked out my house with?” Chloe teased.

Beca rolled her eyes as she always did now when they teased her about her break in. “Yes, in fact.”

“I hope you know since you told me that I bought a stupid nanny cam and hid it in the house.”

“Good. And maybe teach your dog’s not to be so friendly.” Beca snarked while opening Crane’s laptop and plugging in her USB. Crane had more protection on his computer than Chloe had but it still took Beca only 15 before she had complete access. It had been a week ago now since Beca asked for both women’s computers and had updated their security for them. They had beamed and thanked her and Beca had blushed and shrugged it off.

“He has terrible taste in music.” Beca remarked some thirty minutes later. Chloe, who had finished sweeping the room and was helping Aubrey snoop, turned with a laugh. 

“That’s what you’ve been doing over there?”

“What?” Beca defended herself. “You can tell a lot about a person by their taste in music.”

“Well we already knew he was a piece of shit.” Aubrey commented as she moved every book along Crane’s shelf. With how expensive this manor was Beca wouldn’t have been altogether that surprised if a secret passageway had opened up. 

They worked in silence for another hour until Aubrey, who could hear Beca’s stomach growling from across the room, called a halt for lunch. “We’ll find something.” Beca promised them. “You said it, he’s a piece of shit. And we know he’s willing to hire people to do things illegally. We’ll get him on something.” Aubrey gave her one of her soft smiles. 

“I believe you.”

She led them through the house to the kitchen and once inside Beca felt like she was seeing Aubrey’s space for the first time. The kitchen was all modern and not filled with antiques. The black and grey marble countertops matched the white and black tile floor and the backsplash with hints of purples and greens offered a touch of colour. Aubrey began pulling things out of the fridge and Chloe, who was obviously familiar enough with the kitchen to help, moved over to her.

Beca was drawn to the china cabinet along the side wall. It was filled with the antique looking china that Beca had expected to see but it also held framed photographs inside. Beca knew they were Aubrey’s because Crane wasn’t in any of them, while Chloe was, and the blonde was genuinely smiling. She looked them over carefully, smiling at ones of the pair at the beach or at the show. Beca found it incredible that Crane came so little in the kitchen that Aubrey had displayed her love of Chloe proudly for years.

Her eyes flit over to the last photo and she actually recognized it. “Oh, you have this photo too, Chloe.” She pointed out the one of the team of girls celebrating on stage.

“Oh, you mean the one you saw when you broke into my house?” She teased and Beca huffed. Chloe came over to see the one she meant.

“Oh yeah, that was at Nationals. When we were Barden Bella’s.”

Beca held in the comment about acapella being lame because she didn’t want to start the same argument with Aubrey she had the last time they’d told her about the Bella’s. She looked closer at the photo through the glass. Chloe and Aubrey looked so happy, so free and unrestrained and Beca almost prayed she’d get to see them like that for herself. “Who’s this girl? The brunette you’re holding hands with?”

Beca missed the quick look they shared but she noticed the difference in Chloe’s tone when she answered. “Oh, that’s Rachel.”

Beca turned when Chloe’s voice gave away that there was more to the story. Aubrey, casually cutting up vegetables, spoke instead. “She was a freshman when we both were seniors. We’d been dating for three years already when we met her.”

“We realized we both had a crush on her about halfway through the year.” Chloe chimed in, her smile now coy. 

Beca’s eyebrows arched.

“We dated her for the rest of year. It ended amicably enough, she just said she wasn’t into the dynamic of all three of us together.” Aubrey glanced over to see Beca’s face.

“Oh.” Beca’s mind was racing. She did everything she could not to picture the image that was burned into her retinas. Tried not to picture Chloe naked and wanting, tried not to picture Aubrey, hungry and passionate. Tried not to picture a third woman, a brunette, in the mix. Tried not to picture a _different_ brunette with them, touching them, being touched by them. “Oh.” It was far too late to stop picturing it. 

When she looked up Chloe and Aubrey were watching her now, their attention completely on her, and their smiles were soft and warm and affectionate. Beca must not have done a good job hiding what she’d been thinking from her face because the longer they watched her the hungrier they both looked. Looks turned from soft to lustful, warm to _hot_ , and Beca swallowed thickly. 

She was getting her wish and seeing the pair more unrestrained; they looked like they were going to devour her. 

Beca stared at them for a moment trying to see past their blown pupils and slightly parted lips. Beca didn’t want to be nothing. She had seen the casual affair sex and seen it flare out countless times and that wasn’t what she wanted. That wasn’t what had made Chloe and Aubrey different from the beginning. 

Beca didn’t have to look hard. It was there, easily, in green eyes and in blue. The affection was still there. Underneath the wanting there was feeling. There was fondness and adoration. There was hope. Beca met their gazes, still on her, and decided to trust in that feeling she could see reflected in them. 

Beca smirked and nodded.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The creation of this Part Two can be credited to all of the readers who took the time to comment. It can also be attributed to the fact that I slipped down my stairs (holding two cartons of chocolate milk, a jug of bleach and a bowl of grapes of all things) and seriously bruised and hurt my tailbone. Yup, been a major pain in my ass (pun obviously intended). It also means I haven't been to work in a few days so I could get some writing done. That said, I hope everyone enjoys this. -JJ

Beca Mitchell growled and internally threatened bodily harm to whoever was on the other end of the phone currently vibrating away on the nightstand and pulling her from sleep. Beca was by no means a morning person and now, when she was tucked in and comfortable and _warm_ , there had better be an emergency of epic proportions. 

When Beca lifted her face somewhat off the pillow to see which cell phone it was the arm draped around her stomach tightened and pulled her backwards. Beca couldn’t help the affectionate grin that quirked at the corners of her lips even as she tried to force it down. “Is it my pager?” A sleepy, adorable voice whispered from behind her where lips were pressed against the back of her neck; Beca’s body woke up a little more at the sensation.

“No.” Another voice mumbled through the pillow her face was resolutely pressed into. She shuffled into a more comfortable position which caused her bare legs, tangled together with Beca’s, to slide sensually across silky skin. Beca’s heart rate increased a little as she woke even further. 

The continued ringing of the phone shattered her growing fantasies of waking the beautiful women for yet another round. She had already pictured sliding her thigh even higher so that it met Aubrey’s heat; already pictured her fingers guiding the hand resting on her stomach even lower. She now knew the half whispered, half shuddered gasp that would escape the blonde’s lips as her thigh rubbed along her slit; she now knew exactly how well Chloe’s dexterous, _talented_ , fingers worked between her thighs.

“Bec. That’s yours.” Aubrey mumbled again.

Beca cursed and untangled herself from the pile of limbs in Chloe’s queen sized bed. She glanced at the nightstand, smiled at the picture of Aubrey and Chloe happy together that she could just make out in the darkness of the bedroom, and reached for the ringing device. Her heart stuttered in her chest and skipped a beat; and not in the pleasant way it had moments ago when arousal was pooling between her legs.

It was _that_ phone.

“Both of you, quiet now.” Beca said seriously and both women blinked their eyes awake. Chloe, already used to moving to full alertness in a heartbeat due to late night pages from the hospital for emergencies, was already looking at her in concern. Beca answered the phone and allowed her aggravation to bleed through. “What?”

The husky, British voice chuckled a little. “You always sound so happy to hear from me, Becky.”

“That’s because you always phone me at,” she glanced at the clock beside the framed photo, “5am in the fucking morning, Luke. What do you want?”

“What do you think I want?”

Beca actually hesitated. She hadn’t spoken to Luke since she’d seen him in person and delivered the completely fake evidence that Aubrey wasn’t cheating on her husband, Thomas Crane. That had been almost five weeks ago. For the last three of those weeks Beca had been actively helping Aubrey and Chloe dig for information on Crane that would help her divorce her husband without retribution or retaliation; just yesterday Beca had finally found what she needed. 

That fact was the entire reason that Aubrey had risked not going home and stayed in at Chloe’s to celebrate with her girls. That Luke was calling now, less than twelve hours later, made Beca nervous. She felt a gentle hand, Aubrey’s, stroke down her spine and Beca released the tense breath she’d been holding.

“I have a job for you.” Luke continued and Beca tried not to sigh out loud. 

“Okay. One second. And who’s it for?” Beca slipped from the bed and in the dark started groping along the floor. She pulled on her boyshorts when she found them and snagged the first sweatshirt her fingers came into contact with. She padded from Chloe’s bedroom to the living room pulling the hoody on and awkwardly trying to stay on the line. She was met by two sleepy, but becoming excited, dogs that Beca dutifully scratched behind the ears to forestall any barking. 

“Julian Creemore. What’s the hold-up?” Luke complained.

“Fuck off, I wasn’t alone.” Beca snapped. She didn’t relish telling Luke anything remotely personal about herself but the teasing she was about to get would give her another minute while she located her laptop bag in the living room. Beca couldn’t help but consider the possibilities now she knew that this job was for Creemore. Of the three heads of Wilkins, Creemore and Crane, Beca knew Creemore the least. 

“Oh, Becky. Get some. Some biker? Biker chick? Can’t quite get a read on you.”

Beca growled but didn’t grace him with a reply. She pulled one of the two computers from her bag and turned it on quickly. She connected to the wireless internet of the neighbours across the street and four houses down; as far as her connection would reach. “Okay, hit me.” She was plugging in her black USB stick as she spoke. Within seconds she had her advance and the electronic file. She felt the dogs leave her side and glanced behind her; both Aubrey and Chloe were now in the kitchen quietly preparing coffees. “What does Creemore need?”

“A number one special. With a twist.”

Beca’s eyebrows arched and she was glad Luke couldn’t see her expression. “With a twist? Interesting. Shaken or stirred?”

“Stirred. Becky, what have I told you about that? It’s not your job to be interested or curious. It’s your job to do your job.”

Beca already had the money and the file so she just hung up the phone and tossed it down beside her. Her fingers flew across the keys as she did her usual work in moving the money until it was in her secured account. She moved the file to her USB stick and then deleted all traces of everything before powering down the laptop and turning to the kitchen. 

To her girlfriends. 

Aubrey was sitting at the breakfast nook, hunched over her coffee mug, and Chloe was leaned against the counter drinking and giving her pets attention. They were both wearing short silk robes that drew Beca’s eye to their bare legs; and their tantalizing cleavage. They had a third mug waiting for her in what had become _her_ spot at the breakfast nook and Beca shuffled over awkwardly. It had only been five weeks since they invited her into their lives, and three since they invited her into their bed, and sometimes Beca still had difficulty believing that it was all real. 

She slipped into her spot and gulped her still scalding coffee; it was strong and rich and, of course, exactly the way she preferred it. “You girls didn’t have to get up.” Beca mumbled.

Aubrey reached behind her and slipped her hand under the baggy sweatshirt to run her fingers down Beca’s spine again. Chloe gave her a look filled with affection and concern. “We were worried. Was that your illegal business phone?” 

Chloe and Aubrey shared a look Beca didn’t miss and she sighed. Aubrey was a respected lawyer, Chloe a respected doctor, and other than having an affair with each other neither had done anything remotely shady in their entire lives. Beca knew that the fact she was involved in illegal business did not sit well with the pair.

It had been only a few days ago, snuggled together on Chloe’s couch watching How To Get Away With Murder that Beca had brought the situation up. The couch was crowded with both dogs and the completely antisocial cat that had found a soulmate in Beca and, in typical fashion, she had simply blurted it out. “I’ll stop taking illegal jobs after this.” Chloe had startled, Aubrey had paused the Netflix and Beca had squirmed because of their attention focussed solely on her. “It’s whatever.” She’d shrugged. “I no doubt will lose my job contracted to Wilkins, Creemore and Crane but as long as they can’t blab I was doing illegal shit then I can always get a job at a different law firm.” They both had beamed and Beca blushed and gestured for the show to start again. 

Now Beca sighed. “Our shit with Crane isn’t over. I have to take this job.”

“Why?” Aubrey’s voice wasn’t emotional, just curious. She wanted Beca’s reasoning so that she could process it and decide for herself. 

“We need the status quo to remain the same. Right now we have proof that Thomas Crane is doing illegal things but, we don’t have proof that the illegal things are connected to Wilkins, Creemore and Crane. So if I refuse this job, they could fire me and blacklist me from this business. I don’t have any proof that they’ve been contracting me to do illegal things but I can’t take the chance that they do have proof I’ve done illegal things. We’ll need both. With evidence against Crane we can get you divorced, and with evidence against the firm I can leave without fearing for my reputation or security.”

Beca watched Aubrey mull the information over and then nod her head. “I agree.”

Chloe sighed. “I just don’t like it. I worry about you. What if you get caught?”

Beca huffed and then smirked devilishly to ease Chloe’s mind. “Please, I’m the best.” 

“What do you have to do?”

“Julian Creemore called in a number one special.” She smirked playfully. “Cheating spouses.” Aubrey gave her a deadpanned look and Chloe giggled. “But with a twist, meaning backwards. Creemore is the one cheating. He suspects, but doesn’t know, that his wife suspects and he needs confirmation if she has proof and is going to use it.”

Chloe pouted. “God. Isn’t anyone faithful anymore?” Now Aubrey shot her deadpanned look to Chloe and the redhead blushed to match her hair. “Whoops. I didn’t mean you Bree.” She practically bounced around the breakfast nook to drape herself on Aubrey’s back and wrap her arms around her neck. “He’s nothing. You’re faithful to us, that’s what matters.”

As always, Aubrey caved in a second at a touch from Chloe and, as always, Beca blushed at the inclusion of herself in their relationship. “I’ve met Julian Creemore’s wife several times, but only socially. She seemed nice, but aloof. Kind of like him.” Aubrey noted.

Chloe turned her head, still in position plastered to Aubrey’s back, and arched an eyebrow at Beca. “And just how are you going to find out if she knows or not?”

The investigator shrugged and drained the last swallow from her cup before answering. “Hacking her computer would usually be my start. If she has proof hopefully she’s foolish enough to just leave it in a file somewhere. I’ll also hack her financials and see if she’s paid her own P.I.”

Aubrey struggled to straighten somewhat, with Chloe attached like a koala on her back, so she could meet Beca’s face. “Do private investigators have turf wars? Are you putting yourself in a volatile situation?” 

Face carefully kept blank, Beca shrugged again. “Almost never. We all know how it is.”

“How did you get into this business Becs?” Chloe asked while she absentmindedly rubbed her cheek on Aubrey’s back. “And for that matter how did that business become illegal?”

Beca’s expression shuttered closed. Her eyes hardened and she forced her gaze away from them. “Long story for another time and I’ve got to go.” She said it all basically in one breath as she stood from the breakfast nook and walked for the bedroom. She could feel their gazes on her retreating back but she didn’t say anything. It took only a few minutes to find her own jeans and socks. She stripped off the sweater, Aubrey’s due to the Yale logo and the citrus smell, but couldn’t locate her shirt. “Has anyone seen-” She spun around the room once more and found Chloe leaning up against the bedroom doorframe with Beca’s black and white plaid shirt dangling from a fingertip. “My shirt.” Beca finished lamely. She forced herself to step forward towards the redhead but as she reached out for it Chloe moved it away.

“This shirt didn’t even make it to the bedroom last night, remember?” Chloe’s lips were quirked in a playful, coy, smile but her blue eyes were shrouded in worry. “Turn around.” Beca followed the directive and Chloe helped her into the open buttoned shirt like one would help put on a jacket. Chloe continued the smooth motion once the shirt was on and her hands ended up wrapped around Beca’s slim waist while her chin tucked into the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry.”

“Chlo.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to deflect away, Becs.” Chloe tilted her head and pressed a kiss into the soft skin behind Beca’s ear; it was one of her favourite spots to kiss because of the treble clef music note tattooed there. “I’m sorry I blurted out a very personal question without thinking.” She lowered her voice like she was telling a secret. “Bree says I have no tact as well as no personal boundaries.”

Beca snorted. “Can’t imagine why she’d say that, Red.” Her voice was dripping sarcasm but she couldn’t help snuggling back into the warm embrace behind her; staying unhappy with Chloe was impossible.

“You don’t have to answer the question now, I just want you to know that we _do_ care about what the answers are. Not because it’ll make any difference, just because we care about you. Okay, baby?”

Beca’s throat had completely closed so she had no good, emotional or even touching answer to Chloe’s sweetness because she had no answer at all. Chloe didn’t seem to need one and she allowed Beca to turn in her arms and hide her face in the redhead’s neck. Chloe held her close and pressed kisses into brunette hair. When Beca finally pulled away she had her emotions, and her facial expression, under control. She simply nodded to Chloe and the redhead then used nimble fingers to do up the buttons on the shirt she had almost ripped off the night before.

Beca slipped into her leather jacket and returned to the living room to gather her things. She never spread out very far; it still felt weird to Beca to have actual things and personal belongings in Chloe’s house. The redhead had told her to make herself feel welcome but Beca hadn’t been truly welcome in a home since she was a teen and hardly even knew what that meant.

With her laptop bag slung over one shoulder she returned to the kitchen to say goodbye. “You don’t have to leave you know.” Chloe said lightly.

Aubrey stepped in when Beca faltered. “I’m sure she’s just getting a jump on her work for Creemore. I don’t like a file to sit untouched for long either.”

Beca felt a rush of gratitude to Aubrey for understanding and she stepped into the blonde’s personal space with a smile. They hugged tightly without speaking for a moment; they didn’t seem to need the words to show their care. Aubrey lightly tucked a brunette curl behind her ear and then stroked her arm and her spine. Beca squeezed a little tighter to let her know she really was alright. When they pulled away Aubrey was smiling one of her real smiles that caused the corners of her eyes to crinkle. “As much as I love these plaid shirts on you, I _really_ liked seeing you wear my sweatshirt and nothing else.” 

Beca found some bravado in Aubrey’s adoring gaze. She smirked and winked. “Now you can think of me when you wear it.” She leaned in and kissed Aubrey’s lips lightly. As always when she kissed one of her girls it was nearly impossible to keep it chaste. Just being near them turned Beca on. When Aubrey sucked lightly on her lower lip Beca forced herself away because if she didn’t she wouldn’t leave the kitchen until the afternoon.

Chloe was waiting when Beca stepped away from Aubrey and the redhead pulled her in with a gentle hand on the back of her neck. “I like your lack of personal space.” Beca mumbled against her lips and she felt Chloe smile widely into their next kiss. Beca knew that Chloe, who wore her emotions much more openly than the blonde, and much, _much_ , more openly than she herself did, needed the actual reassurance. 

With a final peck Beca forced herself away and was met with two happy dogs at the front door. She pat them quickly before turning back once more. “I’ll put the finishing touches on the Crane stuff at some point today too, okay? I’ll call you later and we’ll figure out our game plan for it.”

They both agreed and bid her goodbye, Chloe with an exuberant wave and a blown kiss and Aubrey with an adoring smile and a wink, and Beca stepped out of her haven and into the real world once more.

Fifty minutes later found Beca pulling her treasured motorcycle, a 2016 Kawasaki Ninja 650 ABS Sport coloured in a glossy jet black and blood red, into a tiny parking space other vehicles had been avoiding at her favourite library. She had decided against going home to change so she looked a little older than her usual college getup when at this library but that was why it was her favourite; she could have shown up in a pair of Chloe’s scrubs and no one would have batted an eye. 

Miraculously one of the closed door study rooms were open and available so Beca slid in and closed herself off from the rest of the library. She pulled out her throwaway laptop and firstly unclipped her white USB stick from her keyring and used it to access her music library. The best part of these study rooms is that they were mildly soundproofed. Beca quickly clicked over to her Research playlist and adjusted the volume. 

_“Got charts and graphs_  
_Got studies and surveys_  
_Got research (research)_  
_But I dunno”_

Once that task, essential to Beca’s productivity, had been taken care of Beca inserted her black USB to pull up the case file from Luke. 

Julian Creemore had informed Luke, who dutifully typed it out for Beca, that he had become suspect of his wife, Helena Dunham, three months ago. She had, according to Creemore, out of the blue suddenly starting questioning his whereabouts and his lies to a degree that made Creemore think she knew something. Creemore admitted to two affairs over the course of the last year; his long time mistress, Gretchen Rickards, and another women, Viktoria Chase, who he had been seeing for four months. Creemore maintained that his schedules and methods had not changed and couldn’t explain his wife’s sudden suspicions. 

Beca rolled her eyes so thoroughly that they hurt the further she read into the file. The rest of the information she merely skimmed; she had read the same basic file hundreds of times. _Cheating men who can’t fathom how they were about to get caught._ Beca left the file and started to compile her own research. Eerily similar to how she started her last illegal job, which had changed her life, Beca began on the website of her own employers.

Julian Creemore’s bio was unsurprising. The 48 year old lawyer had graduated the top of his class at Harvard and had been making waves in the legal field ever since. His specialty was high scale white collar crimes. It was difficult in jury trials to make 12 everyday people care about money trails and hundreds, if not thousands, of documents but Creemore had found his niche. The photo attached to his bio showed a 6 foot, decently athletic but lean Caucasian man with a shaved head and a neatly trimmed goatee. He wasn’t classically good looking; his eyes were slightly wide set and his chin too weak to balance his face. Beca was a little surprised that he was able to carry a wife, a mistress and a girlfriend all at the same time. Although, with a quick hack into his financials, Beca supposed his bank account balance had something to do with it. 

As she knew little about him she searched deeper into Creemore’s background; her eyebrow arched as she found the one thing that set him apart from Crane. The deeper Beca dug she realized that the two law partners couldn’t have had more different childhoods. Crane had grown up old money, practically a prince of the South, and Creemore had grown up the fifth child of a single mother living on welfare. Beca found several old articles, dated from when Creemore would have been about 27, detailing the life of Julian Creemore “who had dug himself from poverty with nothing but his mind and a will to do better”. The feel good, fluff pieces had all but evaporated less than two years later and Beca suspected it was because having money had turned Creemore into someone his old acquaintances wouldn’t recognize. 

Creemore married his socialite wife, Helena, when he was 33 and she 22. Beca tried not to make assumptions but she took an educated guess that money was a factor. Helena Dunham’s life had been the polar opposite of her husbands. Helena had grown up with money and the first ten years of her life were in Los Angeles as her parents lived the Hollywood dream. When she was eleven her father, most notable as the hallmark, white, male love interest in a long running crime show, was involved in a sexual harassment scandal that effectively put an end to his career. The family spent another two years in LA as Christian Dunham tried to survive the scandal and revive his career. When it didn’t happen he turned to alcohol and Helena’s mother took her daughter and left. Helena spent her teen years being the daughter of a forgotten one-role wonder and only remembering what having money felt like. Several years later she met Julian Creemore, became engaged and got married in a span of only 5 months. Beca pulled up a recent picture of Helena and found a surprisingly short and petite, beautiful blonde woman; Beca doubted that she would be much taller than Beca herself. Helena looked extremely made up and put together in every photo Beca could find but it didn’t look at all like she was addicted to plastic surgery like many rich socialites Beca had investigated. 

Beca spent an hour doing what she could to dig into the Creemore’s financials but nothing appeared to be out of place. The Creemore’s were millionaires and their lifestyle matched the numbers Beca was looking at. They had three cars, a Mercedes and a Jaguar, which Beca guessed were the couples everyday cars, and then also a Lamborghini. They had a home several blocks over from where the Crane/Posen manor sat and their names were attached to several charitable causes. 

Just to be thorough Beca checked back through their financials for the last five years but found nothing amiss. There were no significant changes in that time period and definitely no new changes in the last three months. Beca huffed when she saw some of the useless things the couple spent money on like imported flower beds and diamond jewelry cleanings. 

With an exasperated sigh, trying not to remember that she could probably still be tucked in bed with two stunningly beautiful women, Beca turned her attention to Gretchen Rickards. Gretchen was a widowed socialite who, as far as Beca could figure, was famous just because. She was not a singer, actress, designer, or anything else that Beca could find. When she was unable to locate an employer, or job of any kind, for the women she turned instantly to her tax records on a hunch. “Praying mantis.” Beca hissed under her breath when she had been proven correct. Gretchen Rickards was living off the entire estate of her deceased husband; a husband she had been married to for only a year and who had passed away at the age of 89. _Suddenly Creemore’s slightly off face ain’t looking so bad._

Finally Beca turned her attention to the last name provided by Creemore; his girlfriend Viktoria Chase. Comparatively to the others involved in this case Viktoria was a nobody. She was 32 and worked several jobs just to make ends meet. She was seemingly single and lived in a semi-decent one bedroom apartment actually not that far from Beca’s own. She couldn’t fathom where the waitress/ barista/ salesperson had met someone as high-powered and wealthy as Julian Creemore, but Beca found it suspect that they had met only a month before Helena started getting suspicious. _Getting sloppy over a woman Creemore?_

The lawyer’s interest in the waitress, however, was obvious. Beca flipped over to her fake Facebook account and found Viktoria; she was admittedly stunning. She had luscious strawberry blonde curls, though Beca knew of better ginger locks, and she had pretty green eyes, but they paled in comparison to a different set of emerald eyes.

A quick look into Viktoria’s records found nothing of note. Her bank balance showed she was surviving, but perhaps not thriving, and there were no suspicious deposits that meant she was being paid off by someone. 

Beca took the time to find all of the locations she already had but Creemore hadn’t included where he conducted his affairs. Beca sighed, she would have to find out one way or another. She stared at her laptop, but not typing, as she was already tired of this case and she hadn’t even really begun. 

_“I’m doing research_  
_I got to know_  
_What are your motives?_  
_I got to know_  
_Tell me your motives, oh, oh”_

Something about knowing she had already committed some cyber-crimes, and was gearing up for some more serious ones, wasn’t sitting well with her. It was like a weight pressing on her chest and she knew exactly what it was; Chloe and Aubrey weren’t happy and therefore Beca wasn’t. She couldn’t believe her life had become this complicated, and simultaneously this simple, in the span of only a month. 

She swallowed thickly and forced her fingers to move again. She had one more thought and one more thing to hack. It took some time, almost half an hour, but Beca finally pulled up a document that after a quick scan made her jaw drop. As much as she didn’t want to do it, Beca needed a copy. She unhooked her laptop from the charger and brought it, as well as her USB sticks, over to library’s printer. She got one arched eyebrow from a librarian as Beca stood there and printed the hundreds of pages but Beca said nothing; she already hated drawing this much attention to herself. When she finally had the whole document she gathered it together and then surreptitiously went into the settings of the printer and deleted its entire history. 

Finally finished and back in the study room Beca deleted all trace of the work she’d compiled and then started packing up her laptop bag. It was a tighter fit than normal as she had to jam a 150 page document in there well. She had to decide how she was going to play this particular case and almost on a whim Beca pulled out her actual, non-work cell phone. 

“Hey. You feel like meeting me for a drink?” 

**

Beca found a close, easy parking space because of the amount of drivers in Atlanta that avoid the parallel parking spaces. She was only a few blocks over from the library on Peachtree Centre Ave. but knew that her friend had probably still beaten her here. 

Gibney’s Pub was eye catching compared to the rest of the gray, concrete street because the entire front face of the bar had been painted bright red. Beca grabbed her helmet and situated her laptop bag as she walked over to the beat-up, original dark oak doors. The pub was pretty standard; it had a wall of booths and the centre floor was filled with simple wooden tables. Behind the bar, that boasted mostly beer, was several TV screens showing the latest sports updates. This was always their meeting place because the food was good, the beer was cheap and the wait staff knew when to leave them alone. 

“Be-caw!” 

The call that cut through the quiet murmurs of the bar made her roll her eyes and also brought a smile unbidden to her lips that she tried to force down. “Be-caw!” 

He was waiting for her in their usual booth; the one located in the back corner away from the bathrooms and under a sign that boasted _refunds cheerfully denied_. He was smiling wide, as he always seemed to be, and waving her over even though in the mostly empty bar she was clearly already heading over to him. “What’s up Be-caw?” He gave a wide smile like he was being charming.

“What did I tell you would happen if you used that name ever again, Jesse?” She deadpanned as she slid into her side of the booth. 

“Something about your foot in my face. Or was it your foot in my ass? You threaten me so often I can’t quite remember.” His playful smile again almost made Beca smile and she remembered why she had always kept him around. He signalled their waitress for a round and Beca got herself situated while the woman poured their pints. After she dropped them off and they thanked her Jesse turned his smile back on her once more. “So, what can I do for you today, Be-caw? Business or pleasure?”

“I have never called you for pleasure.” Beca sassed. 

Jesse placed a hand over his heart like he was wounded and dramatically flailed against his seat. “You break my heart.” He straightened with a shrug. “Although you speak the truth, you only call me when you need something.”

Beca felt a slight pinprick of guilt at the words from the only person in the world she could consider a friend; but she actually _had_ called him for business so she shrugged the feeling away. “I need your acting skills, of course.” She arched an eyebrow. “And I hope they’re better than what you’ve shown me so far.”

He gave her a smirk and wink that didn’t at all match his true, goofy personality. “You know I’ve never failed you, Beca.”

She picked up a French fry from the plate he had sitting in front of him and tossed it in his face. He broke character to try and catch it in the air with his mouth which prompted another goofy grin.

“Don’t try your smoulder on me, you ass. Keep it for the mark.”

“Who is the mark?” Jesse dipped another fry into his ketchup and munched happily. 

“Helena Dunham. Wife of criminal lawyer Julian Creemore.” 

“She cheatin’?”

“He is.” Beca stole one of his fries and washed it down with her beer. “He needs to know if she knows.” 

“I see. And you’d like me to seduce it out of her?” 

Beca eyed her friend critically. He was wearing old jeans somewhere between stylish and too baggy with a simple grey t-shirt and a burgundy sweater. His brown hair was short but messy and he had a hint of a 5 o’clock shadow that couldn’t even be called scruff yet. Beca couldn’t really picture him seducing anyone unless she was a willing patron at ComicCon. 

She had admittedly seen him in action though. 

When Jesse was 18 and had spent his high school years being teased for being a “theatre kid” trying to get into the New York Film Academy he probably didn’t see his life ending up where it was. He did get into the school but the big break had never quite happened for him. He ended up working in films on the other side of the screen and only using his acting pedigree to help people like Beca when they needed it. 

“Seduce it out of her if you can. I don’t even know yet if she actually knows something. At the very least, get some proof of your encounter if you have one so I have some leverage.” Beca was long used to asking her friend to sleep with someone for a job; she tried not to wonder if, underneath his goofy demeanour, it ever bothered him. 

“Couldn’t come at a better time, I suppose. I could use the money.” Was all Jesse said as he drenched a fry in more ketchup and held it out to Beca’s face; she leaned farther away from him with a scowl.

“Good then.” They didn’t have emotional conversations and Beca left it at that. 

“I’ll spend a day, maybe two, researching her and then I’ll make it happen.”

Beca nodded. “Maybe take your suit to the drycleaners.” He stuck his tongue out at her in response and Beca fake gagged. “Keep that to yourself thanks. Beca stayed with him to finish their beers but she declined a second one. She had things to do and research to accomplish if she wanted to get home early this evening.

She clenched her jaw and shook her head when she realized she had thought _home_ and had been picturing Chloe’s.

**

Beca shuffled awkwardly on the doorstep to Chloe’s house and knew she was about to get chided. The redhead had been telling her for two weeks to just let herself into the house; especially when she had alerted them she was coming over and they were waiting for her. Aubrey had given her arched eyebrow smirk too. _I don’t see what the big deal is, you let yourself into Chloe’s house before you even knew us._ Beca rolled her eyes every time they mentioned her break in but now she silenced the women with forceful kisses to their lips or teasing licks down necks and across collarbones. 

“Becs.” Chloe’s voice was both affectionate and exasperated. “I told you to let yourself in, babe.” 

Beca kicked at the door mat with her boot. “Yeah, I know. Whatever, you gonna let me in?” Chloe stepped aside and Beca refrained from tilting her head up for a kiss until the door was firmly closed. 

Walking into Chloe’s house when she was the last one there was always an experience. She had girls to greet and kiss, dogs butting their heads against her legs and the appearance of Ginger; the fat cat that appeared for Beca and only Beca. 

When she finally extricated herself from the dogs Aubrey was waiting and she stepped into the taller blondes embrace. Aubrey kissed her gently, chastely, but when Beca pressed tighter against her so she could feel the taller woman’s curves Aubrey deepened the kiss and fisted her hair. Beca gasped at the sudden sensation of questing fingers up the back of her jacket and searching for skin; Chloe. The redhead trailed her painted, but short, nails across her skin and around her hips so that she could tease her navel. 

Beca was gasping now so Aubrey moved her lips teasingly along her jawline. “Wait, wait.” Beca panted; her girls ignored her. Chloe pressed tighter against her back and started a slow rock with her hips; Beca pressed her ass back into her completely involuntarily. “Stop, halt, wait.” Her own hands, against her words, had slid down Aubrey’s back and had grabbed her ass to pull her closer. 

“Is that what you really want, Becs?” Aubrey murmured against the skin of her neck. Chloe’s fingers, now dipping beneath the front waistband of her jeans, pulled her back harder so the redhead could grind against Beca’s ass. Beca was almost embarrassed by how loud she was panting practically in Aubrey’s ear. 

“I don’t think it is, baby.” Chloe moaned; her voice was sinful intention and her lips finally left the back of Beca’s neck. Beca forced her eyes open when she realized they were kissing each other over her shoulder. Now _Beca_ was moaning as she watched their talented tongues gently tease each other. Her hands slid around to Aubrey’s front and she fumbled with her thin silver belt and then the button on her grey dress pants.

“I don’t think so either.” Aubrey chuckled into Chloe’s mouth. She forcefully stepped away from both girls and stood before them with her belt and pants undone and sitting low on her hips. “Bedroom. Now.” 

Chloe used Beca’s hips to turn her around and then kissed her forcefully. Chloe kissed with overwhelming passion and _heat_ and Beca hardly noticed she was being walked backwards. Previously Beca wouldn’t have been able to fathom being the passive one, or even being topped, but she willingly let Chloe have her way with her. One hand fisted into Beca’s long curly locks and forced her head backwards and Chloe’s lips and teeth turned to her throat. Beca was still panting shamelessly when the back of her legs hit the bed and she was pushed onto her back. 

Aubrey shut the door behind them and then strut, captivating both sets of blue eyes, over behind Chloe. She whispered something in Chloe’s ear and when Beca watched sky blue eyes darken and turn hungry Beca wasn’t sure she was going to survive this. Her legs hung over the edge of the bed and she was resting up on her elbows; her chest still heaved for breath. Aubrey slunk up behind her and situated herself so that Beca’s back was resting against her front and Beca was sitting in between her legs. “What song do you want to hear, baby?” 

Beca could barely understand the question let alone formulate a response. 

“Tell me, Beca.” Aubrey was whispering directly into her ear, licking and biting her between words. “Tell me. What song do you want to watch Chlo strip to, baby?”

“Oh, God.” Beca moaned; shivers ran down her spine almost directly to her clit. Aubrey bit the skin where her music note tattoo was; _hard_. “Oh, Jesus, fuck.”

“Tell me baby, or you’re going to lose your chance.”

“Set-set,” She was almost gasping now as Aubrey was using one finger and brushing her nipple so lightly she could barely feel it through her shirt. “Set it, oh, off. Set it off. Bree, please. Set it off. Diplo.” 

Aubrey practically purred in Beca’s ear. “I love it when you beg for me baby.” Aubrey latched her lips and teeth onto the spacer in Beca’s ear and gave it a sharp tug. 

“Ohh, fuck.” There was a bit of pain; but mostly pleasure. Beca’s hips were now rocking on the bed trying in vain to find some friction.

“Do you see how wet Chloe is getting watching you, Beca? Look at her.” Aubrey fisted a hand in Beca’s hair and forced her head around when Beca couldn’t look fast enough. “Look at what you’re doing to her.”

Chloe had moved over to the wireless speaker on her dresser and put her phone in it, but now she stood before them again. She was wearing dark wash jeans and a blouse which her hands were under so Beca could see her stroking her own abdomen. 

“Beg her.” Aubrey ordered in Beca’s ear. “Beg her to dance for you.”

“Please, Chlo. Chloe, please dance. Please.” Beca could now pick up the faint sound of the snapping and tapping that was the song intro; and then Chloe started to _move_. She kept her motions slow, matching the beat, as she slowly ran her hands over her stomach and up to cup her breasts. She toyed with her nipples and Beca gasped when Chloe did. Slowly Chloe started undoing the buttons on her blouse and her hips continued moving from side to side to the beat. 

“How badly do you want to touch her?” Was hissed in her ear and Aubrey gave her spacer another sharp tug. “How badly do you want her on this bed with us?”

“Bad.” Beca panted and Aubrey started teasing her again; Beca’s nipples were so hard they were straining beneath her shirt. “So bad.” Beca shamelessly clenched and shifted her thighs to try and find relief; her hands dug into the denim of her own jeans. 

“Is she being bad, Bree?” Chloe husked and stepped closer so she was almost between Beca’s dangling legs; she snapped her hips when the beat of the song picked up. Beca couldn’t take her eyes off Chloe, shirtless with smooth, tanned skin covered only by a skimpy, white lace bra. Beca practically feasted on the sight; she knew what that skin felt like beneath her fingers; and what it tasted like under her lips.

“Chlo.” Beca whined but Aubrey surprised her. Long fingers were suddenly locked around each of her wrists and her hands were forced down on the bed beside her hips. 

“You’re not supposed to touch yourself when receiving a dance, Beca.” Aubrey’s words were punctuated by another bite and pull of her spacer; Beca moaned. “Have I told you what these fucking ear monstrosities do to me?” She tugged on the spacer with her teeth again and Beca rocked her hips.

Aubrey held her restrained and Chloe danced more and more suggestively. Her hands slipped down the front of her jeans and she turned around and offered her ass as she slid them down. Beca’s mouth practically watered at the sight of Chloe in matching white lace that barely covered anything; her own underwear was soaked and ruined. When Chloe turned around and ran her fingers over her underwear _both_ Aubrey and Beca moaned; her white underwear was so wet it was practically see through and they could clearly see the arousal painting her thighs. 

The song, without any lyrics, was continuing to increase in tempo and Chloe was touching herself directly in front of them. She’d pinch and tug on her nipples, run her hands down into her underwear and then run her fingers over her toned stomach. When Beca saw the glisten on her skin from the wetness she briefly fought Aubrey’s grip so she could lean up and taste her. 

Chloe turned her back when she started sliding out of her underwear and Beca groaned in want. “Please, please Chlo.” 

“Do you know how sexy you are right now Beca?” Aubrey breathed in her ear. “How beautiful, and sexy you look so hungry and wanting?” The blonde licked the shell of her ear. “Every time you moan and beg my pussy _clenches_ at your voice.” 

Beca almost _sobbed_ her next moan and she tried to rub herself back onto Aubrey but the blonde held her nearly immobile. 

Chloe stripped off her bra then and when she dropped it she stood proudly, and confidently, naked in front of her girlfriends. She continued to dance for them, dropping low and spreading her legs to give them a clear view of her wet pussy, until she shimmied closer and stepped right between Beca’s legs. Instantly, Beca opened her legs wider and then tried to pull Chloe down into her. She was so close to where Beca needed her but not close enough.

“Are you going to come for us, baby?” Aubrey moaned. “I can feel how close you are and we’re barely even touching you. We haven’t even felt your wet, _tight_ , pussy yet. Haven’t even licked and sucked and bit your clit yet. Are you wet and hard for us, baby? Are you clenching and pulsing and _aching_?”

Beca couldn’t take her eyes off of Chloe, _so fucking close_ , who was using one hand and spreading herself wide open for Beca’s pleasure. Her neatly trimmed, strip of ginger curls were soaked and Chloe used her free hand to dip two fingers into her entrance. “Do you want a taste, baby?” Chloe whimpered as she thrust lightly into herself. “Do you want to taste me?”

“Please.” Beca whined; the heartbeat pulsing in her clit was getting painful. “Pl-please, Chloe.”

Chloe removed her fingers and held them out; they were wet and glistening. Beca tried to move her head forward but she could only move so far with her arms pinned to the bed. Beca whined again and Chloe moved closer only to move her hand aside and offer her wet fingers to Aubrey. 

Beca almost sobbed when, right beside her face, Aubrey swirled her tongue around the wet digits and sucked them into her mouth. Chloe whimpered wantonly and Beca clenched her thighs around the redhead’s legs as hard as she could. Aubrey bit down on Chloe’s fingers and the redhead gave a small cry; when Aubrey released her she returned her lips to Beca’s ear. “Come for us, baby. Come and then we’ll fuck you so good. We’ll fuck you so _hard_.”

Chloe’s hand came down and cupped Beca’s sex roughly and Beca cried out; her back arched almost off the bed. Aubrey released her grip on Beca’s wrists only to slide under Beca’s shirt. She practically forced Beca’s bra up over her breasts and then pinched down on rock hard nipples. Beca threw her head back and she struggled to even pant; Aubrey leaned down and sucked on the throat that Beca had offered. 

“Come, Beca, baby.” Chloe rhythmically rocked her hand into Beca’s sex over her jeans, forcing the inseam to rub against her clit. “Come now, baby.” Chloe used her own thigh to add some more force behind her thrust and Aubrey twisted her nipple. All of Beca’s muscles locked as she came with a choked cry. Tears leaked from the corners of her eye as she tensed and shook in her girlfriends’ arms.

Their touches had turned soft now; Aubrey was nuzzling into her neck lovingly and Chloe was stroking down her jean clad thighs like she just couldn’t stop touching her. It wasn’t until her heart rate had calmed down slightly and her body stopped trembling that the embarrassment set in. _Jesus fuck, they barely even touched me._

Beca moved like she was going to sit up, and then flee, but both women were waiting for it. Aubrey wrapped her arms around her waist, not restraining her this time, just holding her. Chloe slid on her knees to the floor and rest her upper body on Beca’s thighs. 

“Beca. Oh my god.” Chloe’s voice was shaking. “I can’t even tell you how beautiful you are.”

“Do you even know what you do to us? Do you?” Aubrey whispered against her skin. “Please. Please.” Now _Aubrey_ was the one begging. 

“Please what?” Beca’s voice was hoarse. 

“Please, can we have you?” Chloe panted. “I _need_ you, Beca.”

“Please.” Aubrey was now trembling and Beca sensed she was holding herself back. “Please, let us have you.”

Beca almost bit through her lip to stop more tears from leaking from her eyes. _How could I be embarrassed when they’re looking at me like that?_ “You can always have me.” Beca whispered.

Both women moved in a flash. Aubrey slipped from the bed so she could start stripping herself with rapid, uncaring movements; there was no teasing this time. Beca craned her neck around so she could watch creamy, pale skin appear but Chloe had pounced. Beca found herself being stripped with almost violent intensity. This time she was sure buttons actually were popping off her shirt as Chloe ripped it off of her. Sliding down somewhat Chloe began peeling skin tight jeans off slim hips. Aubrey was suddenly back on the bed and Beca had no time to appreciate the view as the blonde gripped her by the shoulders and half lifted her off the bed so she could reach the clasp of Beca’s bra. 

Almost too many things were happening at once and Beca couldn’t keep up with the sensations. Hot breath caused her nipples to harden again before she cried out as lips latched on and sucked lightly while a tongue swirled around the tip and flicked it. Nails were now digging into her thighs as her, completely ruined, boyshorts were pulled down. Beca’s body was still shaking and quivering from her orgasm and as pleasure streaked down her spine her mind was going blissfully blank.

She tried to move her hands, tried to touch the skin that was available to her, but lips wrapped around her clit without warning and her back arched even as her eyes rolled. “Just let us love you, baby.” Beca barely heard the words as Chloe spoke them almost directly to her pussy. “God, I want you so bad. You taste so good.” Chloe punctuated her statement by licking her slit from bottom to top and then swirling wetness around her clit. After weeks of licking Beca and making her come she knew exactly how the brunette liked it; and she knew exactly how to keep her on edge. She didn’t stick to any one pattern; she flicked her tongue rapidly over her clit before slowing down and running circles, over and over, even as Beca whimpered and moaned. 

“That’s it, baby.” Aubrey whispered as she kissed a path across Beca’s breastbone and enveloped her other nipple. She gripped it with her teeth and tugged it as she sucked and Beca felt her empty pussy clench. 

“Please, fuck me. Fuck me.” The words were a drawn out groan and it made the women double their efforts. Hands were _everywhere_. Aubrey pinched and twisted the nipple her lips weren’t tormenting and her free hand was raking her nails down her defined stomach muscles; the blonde moaned and clawed her a little harder when she saw the abdominal muscles beneath her fingers desperately flexing. Chloe’s one hand was holding Beca’s hips from bucking off the bed; her thumb was by her hipbone and her fingers were almost underneath her holding her ass. She was using her other fingers to hold Beca’s lips open so basically her entire mouth could devour Beca’s heat. “Oh god, oh my fuck.” Beca’s hands flailed as she tried to find purchase to anchor herself. Her entire body basically _writhed_ under the attention of her girlfriends. 

Aubrey’s hand stopped tormenting her stomach and she moved along smooth skin to the outside of Beca’s thigh. Chloe shifted her body without moving her lips from Beca’s clit. Beca’s mouth opened in a silent scream as Aubrey entered her smoothly with those long fingers. Aubrey thrust two fingers in and out and she moaned when Beca’s pussy clenched around her. 

“I ca- I can’t,” Beca moaned and her head thrashed back and forth.

“You can, baby.” Aubrey moaned into her skin; from her new position she was now biting and licking her way down Beca’s ribcage as she thrusted into her soaking wet pussy. “You can.” Aubrey deftly added her ring finger and Beca keened at the stretch. “Come, Beca. Come now.” Aubrey curled her fingers so her nails could scrape gently against her G-spot every time she pulled out her fingers before thrusting harder back in. Chloe sucked Beca’s clit fully into her mouth, she could almost feel it pulsing against her tongue, and she tugged it lightly with her teeth.

Beca’s vision went white. Her muscles locked and her back arched almost viciously. A strangled moan was caught in her throat as her body shuddered and contracted with the orgasm. 

Beca’s back finally hit the bed and her hand landed limply on her pelvic bone as she tried to force her girlfriends away; her hypersensitive body couldn’t handle any more of their attention. Aubrey gently licked over the half dozen love bites she’d left down her ribcage and Chloe nuzzled sweetly around her thighs as she licked her clean. 

The brunette was completely boneless and she laid under their attention weakly. Never in her life had Beca been taken like that; never in her life had she ever allowed herself to be so passive and weak for another person. 

But Chloe and Aubrey were different; they’d always been different. 

Beca finally lifted her head off the mattress and met their shining, adoring gazes. “Jesus, fuck.”

Aubrey grinned and shuffled upwards to press her lips gently, chastely, against Beca’s. “You’re so beautiful.” 

When the blonde shifted over again Chloe practically slithered up Beca’s body and claimed her lips for herself; even though her body was exhausted and still faintly trembling from their attention Beca moaned at the taste of herself on the redhead’s lips. “Thank you for giving yourself to us like that, baby.”

Beca, becoming embarrassed once more, shrugged and shook her head at the same time which made her mildly look like she was having a seizure; both her girlfriends chuckled tenderly at her. “You’re the cutest.” Chloe grinned. “So adorable.”

“Really?” Beca arched an eyebrow. Her body was, finally, coming down but she noticed the blown wide pupils on her girlfriends and the flush along their chests. She sat up and leaned forward to kiss Chloe sweetly and the redhead grinned against her lips. Beca then brought her hand up to stroke Chloe’s cheek gently and the redhead hummed. Slowly, Beca moved her hand down until it was around Chloe’s throat; her fingers held her neck steady in place and her thumb pressed carefully against the redhead’s windpipe.

Beca pulled back from her and arched her eyebrow again; Chloe panted under Beca’s hold. The brunette then turned and caught the eye of Aubrey beside her; the blonde’s hands were already trembling. “You.” She gestured higher up the bed. “On your back. Now.” 

**

“Beca.” A teasing voice whispered against her skin. “Becs, wake up.”

Another voice whispered into her other ear. “It’s only the evening, you can’t actually go to sleep, baby.” Beca ignored them both and cuddled deeper into the warmth. Both women chuckled.

“God, you’re so cute.” Chloe cooed happily. Beca awoke just enough to crack an eye open and arch an eyebrow; Chloe’s eyes darkened.

“Careful, Chloe.” Aubrey teased. “You’ll have to be careful with that one from now on.”

Chloe grinned. “If _that_ was the treatment I get for calling her cute, remind me to say it constantly.”

Beca huffed and tried to burrow into the blankets and the naked bodies with her. “Quiet. Sleep now.”

“I’m sure you are sleepy Beca,” Aubrey smiled, “but you really need to come eat something.”

“Thought I just did.”

“And now you’re a teenage boy. C’mon.” 

Between the two they managed to drag Beca from bed and get her mostly decent in Aubrey’s hoody so they could make dinner together. Chloe greeted both her dogs and it was difficult to tell which of the three of them were happier about it. Beca found Ginger curled up on her laptop bag in the living room. Beca stroked her once and Ginger meowed before closing her eyes and returning to sleep; Beca thought she was the perfect pet. 

Beca wasn’t as adept in the kitchen as Chloe and Aubrey but they set her to chopping vegetables which she did happily while wielding the knife like a sword. “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” She brought the knife down with a sharp “he-ah” and it sliced through the pepper and clattered loudly on the glass cutting board. Beca could _feel_ her girlfriends arched eyebrows at her back and she shuffled awkwardly and cleared her throat. “My bad.”

“I thought you hated movies?” Chloe questioned from her position at the stove. 

“I do. They’re predictable and boring. But that one is special.” Chloe, wisely, chose to stay quiet and Beca forced herself to continue. “Watching that movie is the only memory I have with my grandma.” She said nothing more and returned to slicing up the pepper as Chloe had directed. The next time she moved by Chloe pressed a kiss on her cheek and a minute later Aubrey lovingly stroked her spine. Beca appreciated that they seemed to understand, and accept, that they would get personal information from her in bits and pieces at a snail’s pace.

“Hey Becs.” Aubrey caught the brunette’s attention some ten minutes later while they were waiting for their stir-fry. “Did you have something you wanted to ask us earlier?”

“Hmm?”

“At the door. When you wanted us to stop?”

“Oh. Yeah, actually. Just thought business should get out of the way first. Not that I’m complaining!” She cleared her throat. “I was wondering if you could read something for me, Bree.” Beca slid off her stool and headed for her laptop bag where she was loathe to force Ginger to move. 

“Of course I will.” Aubrey didn’t hesitate. “What is it?” When Beca banged the thick, 150 page document down in front of her Aubrey’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Okay. Well I still will, but it’ll take me a minute.”

Beca chuckled. “Just this bit here.” She started flipping through large sections of the document for the place she had marked. 

“Hang on.” Aubrey disappeared back into the bedroom and returned a moment later wearing reading glasses that made Beca swoon. Beca heard Chloe hum from across the room.

“Yeah, I love it when she wears those too, Becs.” 

“This looks like a contract, obviously.” Aubrey remarked, serious now, as she pulled it towards her.

“It is. A prenuptial agreement, in fact.”

Aubrey looked up surprised. “Julian Creemore’s? How on earth did you get it?”

Beca swallowed thickly. “Do you really want the answer to that?” When Aubrey glanced at Chloe, and then look resolutely back down the contract, Beca nodded. “I used a keyword search to find relevant information and came up with this.” She pointed to the page she had marked towards the end of the prenup. “I think I deciphered the technical legal mumbo jumbo and what it meant, but I wanted you to check it.”

Aubrey quickly scanned her eye down the page and her eyebrow’s jumped in surprise. “It’s an adultery clause.”

“What does that mean?” Chloe asked from her position at the wok on the stove. 

Aubrey took a moment to answer as she read the clause in more depth. “I’m surprised he signed this.” She murmured after a moment. “Either he wasn’t as savvy back when he got married, or he truly did love Helena when he married her.”

“Or he was an arrogant prick even back then and assumed that he would never get caught.” Beca rolled her eyes.

Chloe cleared her throat to remind them she was still in the dark. Aubrey peered up at her and looked over her glasses in a cute way that made Beca smile. “This is a very in depth and serious prenuptial agreement geared, I would assume, towards Creemore. He was the one who was bringing wealth into the marriage. So if they divorce, with this prenup, Helena goes back to having nothing. But, this clause is an exception. If they divorce and Helena can prove that Creemore was adulterous, the prenup is null and void. Meaning she would get half of his fortune and continued spousal support.” 

Chloe turned her gaze on Beca who was staring blankly at the wall in thought. “What does that mean for you, Becs?”

“Could mean nothing. Could mean everything.” Beca murmured. “If she doesn’t know about the affairs it’s a moot point. If she does though, she has a couple million reasons to get proof and divorce him. Either way, I still have to find out if she knows for sure. And,” She drew the word out as she looked over her girlfriends, “we have to make final decisions on what we’re doing about Crane.” She practically spat his name and Aubrey’s lips quirked into a smile.

“No, nuh-uh. After dinner.” Chloe was plating stir-fry by the stove and Aubrey rose to help her. “I’ve had enough meals ruined by that man. We’re going to enjoy this one. Beca, if you would?”

Beca was already moving over to the speaker system in the living room and she quickly plugged her phone into the jack. She scrolled for a moment before something caught her eye and made her grin. Her plate was waiting for her when she headed back over but both her girlfriends were ignoring the food to cock their heads and listen for her music choice. “What are we listening to?” Chloe asked as a light guitar riff started.

“This is Fickle Friends. The song right now is Hard To Be Myself. They’re like an English indie pop band. They started in 2013 but didn’t really make it until last year, which is a travesty because Natassja, the woman singing right now, sings with such emotion and soul. She can take happier pop music and make it mean something, you know?” She looked up at their adoring gazes and dropped her own eyes to her plate with a blush. “Or, whatever. They’re good.” 

“When are you going to realize, Becs,” Aubrey reached out and touched the back of her hand lightly, “we completely adore your musical rants. We adore your music and how much it means to you.”

“You’re adorable, oh my god.” Chloe beamed. Both Beca and Aubrey arched their eyebrows. 

It wasn’t until hours later, curled up in the living room listening to Beca’s music, that Chloe herself brought Crane back up. “So, you’ve been spending more time here lately, Bree. We need to do something soon before Thomas does something drastic.”

Beca went still in alarm but Aubrey shrugged. “He’s just started a trial and the depositions are getting under way. He wouldn’t notice if I set the mansion on fire right now. We have a couple of days. Plus, you said we have the proof now, right?”

Beca nodded, her mind already racing trying to stay several steps ahead of the criminal lawyer. 

“What exactly has he done that’s illegal? You guys got technical there for a bit when Beca called to say she had it.” Chloe sipped her after dinner tea and absentmindedly pet her dogs who were laying on her feet. 

“It wasn’t what I was expecting,” Beca admitted, “because he’s clearly a piece of shit and what we found was white-collar but illegal is illegal.” 

“Basically,” Aubrey took over the explanation, “he’s money laundering. A company called VenRon Shares Corporation, which is a real company, gets the public to invest in different market shares and stock options. It’s a smaller based stock company for people who don’t want to deal with the Stock Exchange. Small time stock and investments change hands frequently. What Thomas is doing is taking dirty money and investing it in a stock option and then trading that stock for another. The new stock is then sold and the money that Thomas receives is now clean. He returns the money to whoever gave it to him and he keeps a cut off the top for his trouble.”

“I suspect,” Beca chimed in, “that VenRon is doing some other illegal shit too. Insider trading maybe, or fraudulent trades. Illicit transactions at the least.” Aubrey looked shocked, and a little turned on, and Beca winked at her even as she shook her head laughing. “Thanks for the surprise, dude. I know some shit. Either way, I don’t really care. Crane was nice enough to keep records of his transactions and the cut he’s been keeping so we have him over a barrel. Either he divorces you nicely, Bree, or we can go to the police. Even if he thinks he can wiggle out of it he can’t afford even the implication on his reputation.”

“He won’t.” Aubrey assured them. “If Thomas ever let his name get dragged through the mud Daddy Crane would murder him. He’ll take divorce over criminal charges; even white-collar ones.”

“And then,” Chloe’s grin was growing like her body just couldn’t contain it, “you’ll finally be free of him. Free, Bree.”

Aubrey almost looked like she was going to tear up. “All I ever wanted was to be free with you, Chlo.” She reached out and snagged Beca’s wrist before the younger brunette could even shift awkwardly. “I never even dared to imagine we’d find someone else who completes us.” 

Beca blushed and cleared her throat. “Right. So, I don’t think either of you should be there when I tell Crane. I’m hoping I can get Luke to set up a meeting for the three of us and then I’ll tell him. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a recording of some other illegal or threatened shit that I can use to get myself out of the firm safely.” Aubrey and Chloe looked like they wanted to complain but Beca shrugged them off. “It’ll be fine. Now, I know how much you love the Dixie Chicks, Bree, but have you guys ever heard them cover Beyoncé?” 

**

The music ripped through the mostly dim apartment and Beca lounged on the floor, pillow under her head and her eyes closed. There had been a time when Beca couldn’t imagine anything better than her empty apartment, with the music loud and nowhere immediately to be and nothing urgent to do. But now, Beca could imagine something.

She could imagine the gentle weight of a head pillowed on her abdomen and the comforting cushion of a thigh under her head instead of a pillow. She could imagine chuckles breaking the beat when she air-guitared and appreciating sighs when the music broke its crescendo and the feeling it was trying to invoke infused the body. 

A new song began, Blitzen Trapper covering Bruce Springsteen’s Working on the Highway, and Beca already knew what she would be saying to them right now. _“This cover works because it’s unique. He takes a typical Boss and plays it with a blues vibe that could find a home down in the bayou. It’s carried throughout by stunning slide guitar, but it doesn’t lose those everyman vocals that made Springsteen a hit to begin with.”_ She could just as easily picture how Aubrey would smile lightly and let her eyes say how much she adored Beca and Chloe would coo and call her adorable.

Unfortunately, both her girlfriends were busy, successful people and it had been almost 40 hours since she’d seen them. One of Aubrey’s long time clients had called the firm in trouble and Chloe had been needed for a patient that had taken a drastic turn. 

The investigator, who prided herself on being badass and tough, was trying not to pout. In the last few weeks, and especially in the last few days since they had found proof against Crane, Beca had gotten used to spending her time in Chloe’s house with the two of them. She had gotten used to dogs as happy and excitable as their owner and a cat who for all intents and purposes was now Beca’s. 

Beca felt the vibrate of her phone, where they laid on her thighs, and Beca forced her eyes open. It was not _that_ phone so she knew it wasn’t Luke. It had been two days since she called him asking for a meet with Crane and so far the British man hadn’t come through. She was even less excited when she glanced at her regular phone and saw it wasn’t either of her girlfriends. Had it been anyone else she would have just ignored it. Instead, she slid her thumb against the screen to connect the call and tried not to sound as pathetic as she was. “Yeah?”

“Be-caw.” Jesse’s voice was a little more serious than usual and Beca sat up on the floor.

“What’s up, Jess, you got something for me?”

“Nothing but bad news, I’m afraid.”

Beca was surprised. As much as she teased her friend for being a nerd and a dork it was a rare occurrence when he didn’t come through for her. “With Helena? What happened?” 

“I was pretty confident, actually. Research went fine and I knew I could pull this off. She even went and spent a couple hours alone in a piano bar, so I thought I had it made. It was like she was waiting to get hit on.”

“And she turned you down?” Beca absently turned the ring on her thumb round and round.

“Turned me down flat. She was nice, and polite, but she didn’t give me the time of day. I was smooth and charming about it, trying to see if maybe she liked to see how a guy reacted to rejection first, but no go. She flat out told me I was young and cute and perfect for another woman in the bar, but that she was a lesbian.” 

“What?” Beca half choked in surprise. _Okay, that one I did not see coming._ “Do you think she was just blowing you off?”

“I wasn’t sure, so I hung around. She’s a beautiful woman in her thirties sitting alone in a bar, she got hit on like 15 times. Every class and type of guy you could imagine and she didn’t give any of them even a second glance.”

“There something else?”

“Just a feeling. She looked a little sad for the few minutes while we were talking. Like she was trying to be polite but she was sad and just done. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she was telling the truth.”

“Okay, I trust your opinion, Jesse.” Beca’s mind was racing. “Thanks for trying.”

“Didn’t do much of anything, so you don’t have to worry about the payment or anything.”

“Don’t be stupid, Jesse, you did what I asked you to do. I’ll wire you the money later tonight.”

“Thanks, Be-caw.” Beca could hear the genuine gratitude in his voice and was glad that he didn’t make a bigger deal out of it. 

“Course, Jess.”

“This is good for you, isn’t it?” Jesse’s voice was back to his usual goofy, playful tone. “You can go take care of this one yourself, if you know what I mean. It won’t be a hardship, I assure you. She was definitely beautiful.”

Beca rushed him off the phone with a slightly sickened feeling in her chest. 

The haunting piano intro of Calum Scott’s Dancing On My Own started in the background.

**

Her phone screen lit up with a text message, [Becs! Where are you? Bree’s on her way over and I’d like to cuddle tonight with more than my dogs :)], and Beca resolutely turned the phone over on the bartop so she wouldn’t have to look at it anymore. She convinced herself that she was working and she couldn’t be distracted.

When Jesse had said “piano bar” this admittedly wasn’t what she was expecting. The bar, aptly named Luce’s Piano Bar, was actually on Virginia Ave just a block away from the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. It was unquestionably the place to relax after a flight; or to pick up company on a layover. The mood was good and the female piano player was beautiful and talented; Beca attributed her seeming lack of success to the trials of the business. 

The drinks were quick and the bar Beca was sitting at was well stocked and typical enough. Her confusion came from the fact that she doubted any one person in the bar would believe they were sitting with a millionaire in their midst. They were not in the highest class part of town and Beca, in a simple black dress and her leather jacket, was one of the best dressed in the bar. 

Beca swirled her straw in her rye and ginger and subtly paid attention to the rest of the bar. She could see several hook-ups in the process of happening, and several other people scoping out their intended partner. Beca felt a tiny bit bad for the piano player because hardly anyone was focusing on her. 

“Ms. Mitchell?” Was suddenly husked in her ear and Beca jumped. She turned to look at the statuesque, stunning brunette women smirking at her. She was wearing a black dress that was revealing quite a bit more skin than Beca’s. It was the perfect amount of sexy, while not being slutty, and though it didn’t say _hooker_ it definitely said on the prowl. Most of the woman’s height was natural though she was wearing high heels and Beca knew if she wasn’t sitting on a bar stool she would feel dwarfed next to this woman. 

“Ms. Conrad?” 

“Stacie, please.” Stacie smiled and showed perfect white teeth.

“Beca, then. Have a seat.” 

Stacie moved gracefully onto the stool next to Beca and motioned for the bartender to bring her what Beca was drinking. “So,” she turned to examine Beca from head to toe and, unlike when Chloe or Aubrey did it, it did nothing for her. She let the woman get a read on her before continuing. “I checked while I was in the car outside and I noticed you already wired me the advance? Isn’t that risky before I’ve even shown up?”

Beca shrugged. “You were recommended to me by a reputable source. And besides, if you think I can’t get back into your bank account and take it back you’re mistaken.”

Stacie grinned wolfishly. “No need for that, I have no problems being here. I quite like my job.” She must have caught the flash of disbelief on Beca’s face because she laughed. “It’s true. I like sex, so what? People are hot. Men, women, male transgender, female transgender, transgender’s pre or post op, non-binary, gender fluid, the list goes on.” She shrugged again. “I’m _really_ not picky. I find something attractive about everyone and with me involved, the sex is always fantastic.” 

Beca was stunned a little by the sheer amount of confidence, and sex appeal, this woman projected but Beca cleared her throat and rolled with it. “Good, then. I guess?” She cleared her throat again. “Anyway, your mark is over there, dude. Closest booth seat towards the piano.”

“I got this.” Stacie grinned. She collected her drink and slipped off her stool. “Just a question though. When Jesse called me he made it sound like this was unusual. That you would normally take care of these types of unexpected lesbian encounters yourself.” Stacie eyed her up and down again. “My gaydar is impeccable and you definitely swing on that particular side of the fence.”

Beca took a large gulp of her drink. “I do.” She agreed. Stacie didn’t move and she sighed. “I’m in a relationship.” Beca uttered the words she hadn’t said since high school.

“Ah.” Stacie shrugged. “Fair enough I suppose. But, honestly? I’m a hunter. I just can’t imagine sticking to sex with just one person.” With that Stacie positively sauntered away and Beca quirked her lips into a smirk.

“Neither can I.”

Beca spent over two hours in the bar nursing progressively weaker rye and gingers and trying to keep her head. She basically only had the piano player to occupy her. The woman was a truly good player and her vocals were decent. Beca could play, decently while not expertly, almost every common band or orchestra instrument and she amused herself by trying to match the playing on the bartop by ear.

_I wonder if Chloe and Aubrey would enjoy seeing me play something?_ She toyed with the idea of bringing a violin with her the next time she went to Chloe’s. She knew the redhead had texted her again but she steadfastly ignored it. She couldn’t lie to them and knew what their reactions would be to finding out she was sitting in a bar watching a woman she’d paid to try and have sex with Helena Dunham. She’d explain it to them but she at least wanted to do it in person.

For the second time in the night Stacie’s voice in her ear startled her. “Well, I may have over exaggerated how much I got this.”

Beca’s jaw dropped. _No fucking way._ “She turned you down too?”

“Turns out she’s firmly on your side of the fence.”

The investigators eyebrows scrunched together. “What?”

Stacie laughed. “The monogamous side of the fence. She is a lesbian but she’s in a relationship. And a happy one at that because she wouldn’t ever even consider cheating. Although, that might have something to do with her girlfriend being right here.”

“What?” Beca didn’t like feeling behind in this conversation. 

Stacie gestured with her drink. “She’s with the piano player. I think she enjoyed talking to a lesbian and enjoyed the casual conversation but she’s committed to that woman.”

Beca whipped around and focused again on the woman seated at the baby grand. This time, Beca made sure to watch more than her hands. Her auburn hair was straight and cut short to just brush her jawline. She had beautiful curves highlighted by the slate grey dress she was wearing. “Interesting. At least that explains why a lesbian would spend hours on end sitting in this particular piano bar.”

“Yup. She was really nice actually. Happy, but also stressed and sad.” Stacie threw back the remainder of her drink. “Well, this has been fun but I have time to make some more fun with the rest of this night, if you catch my drift.”

Beca blinked deadpanned. “I caught your drift.”

“Good. Just the advance is fine, cutie. And keep my number if you need my services again.” She pressed a quick kiss to Beca’s cheek and then sauntered out of the bar turning every head she passed along the way. 

Beca waited to finish her drink and turned her back to the bar to surreptitiously watch Helena. Beca could see it now; the soft, gentle smile the blonde wore and the way she watched the pianist’s face and not her hands. _So, you and your husband are both having affairs. But if you have proof of his you get half the fortune when you divorce him._

Beca flagged the bartender over to pay her tab. “That piano player is pretty good.” Beca remarked casually. “What’s her name?”

“Her stage name is Evangeline. I think she has a Facebook page to check out her playing and stuff. Maybe an Instagram, I don’t know.” The 20 something bartender shrugged a little helplessly.

“No worries, dude.” Beca slid him his tip and jumped off her stool. “Have a good night, man.” Beca slipped her coat back on and decided to head straight to Chloe’s. For just the night she would leave other people’s drama behind her.

**

Beca stretched her neck, and her back, and all of her muscles pulled deliciously. Showing up at Chloe’s last night still wearing her little black dress and leather jacket had forced all thoughts of cuddling from Chloe’s mind. Her hands still trembled, and her clit pulsed, at the thought of how many times they had fucked her while she was still fully dressed. 

They hadn’t been extremely enthused after to hear about Beca’s night, as she’d known they wouldn’t be, but all Beca could do is shrug and, in a painfully small voice, promise this was her last illegal job. They had cuddled her and cooed to her that they understood and that they were so grateful she had chosen to turn her life around because of them.

All of that wonderfulness aside Beca was _almost_ relieved when they left for work this morning because her body ached and throbbed and she needed to sit down with her laptop. She needed Helena Dunham’s computer; that much was becoming painfully clear. While she couldn’t easily get evidence of an affair, because Helena was unwilling to cheat on her piano player, she probably still could the same way she’d first gotten proof of Aubrey’s and Chloe’s. She had taken the time to look into Helena’s mistress; one Evangeline Turris. Her background held nothing of note and she appeared to be exactly what she was; a struggling musician. Beca couldn’t imagine where Helena and Evangeline had met but she suspected it was around 8 months ago because, according to her credit cards, that was when Helena became a regular at Luce’s. 

That wasn’t, at this moment, Beca’s top priority though. Unlike Crane, Creemore didn’t altogether care if his wife was cheating. He only cared if she knew about _his_ affairs. And now Beca understood more clearly why; he had signed a document 15 years ago that was sealing his fate now. 

The barista in Beca’s new favourite coffee shop, the one where she’d met her girlfriends, dropped off her cup and she settled in to work. She spent two hours hacking everything she could think of. She was getting a better view of Helena now and, at her core, she could not picture Helena driving around in a car with tinted windows and sneaking pictures of Creemore entering and exiting buildings with his mistress. High class millionaire Helena Dunham might sit in a somewhat seedy bar to watch her own girlfriend, but for matters of Creemore she would hire someone. 

And Beca could not figure out how she’d done it. 

She hacked into her phone records and back tracked every call log for the past four months; no number was unaccounted for and no number was registered, legally or illegally, to a fellow P.I. Creemore had given up his wife’s email account and she backchecked every email but there was no communication between Helena and an investigator. Beca knew she needed Helena’s computer; Luke still hadn’t gotten back to her about Crane so she was reluctant to call him again and ask for Creemore to send over his wife’s laptop. It would be easier just to steal it. Then she could check the computers history, for any searches regarding investigators, and also for another email account she might be using to communicate without her husband’s knowledge. This seemed most likely to Beca as she’d checked all the woman’s known communication methods and there had been almost no sign of Evangeline. 

Beca took a break just to crack her back, buy another coffee and a muffin, and she settled in once again. Her fingers paused as she wasn’t sure what to type. She almost smiled in public when her Tasmanian mentors voice echoed in her mind; _“When you get stuck into something like a wombat in the crocs jaws you don’t just keep plowing ahead, right short stack? Unless you’re me, cause I’d just wrestle the croc.”_

“Alright, Amy.” Beca muttered. “Going backwards.” The investigator took a scalding sip of coffee and then began her investigation again; she went back over everything. She rehacked and rechecked every piece of information she had acquired. She even called Stacie and asked for her opinion if Helena Dunham would do the dirty work herself; the brunette bombshell had replied that nothing about that woman from her hair to her clothes to her jewelry ever got dirty.

The longer Beca sat in the coffee shop, as she changed playlists three times and the people around her came and went, the harder it was to stay focussed. She found her thoughts, more and more, straying to her girlfriends. She wanted Luke to phone her back, desperately, because the second she forced Crane into playing ball Aubrey could officially get her divorce. Hopefully Beca could, in the process, get some dirt on the entire firm because then she could leave and never deal with the entitled rich men at Wilkins, Creemore and Crane ever again. 

It was then, when her focus was shifting and she was thinking about hacking into the databases of her own employers, that she had a sudden thought. Her girlfriends brought it on, of course, like they always seemed to now, and Beca actually put her work down because of it. She closed her laptop and was out the door before she even stopped to question if what she was doing was insane.

** 

Beca had never felt quite so out of place entering a building before in her life. The lights were blinding, she was half tempted to leave her sunglasses on her face, and she instantly felt herself being stared at. 

“Hi there, can I help you?” The voice was polite but the smile was fake. Beca slipped her sunglasses on top of her head and met the look of the woman eyeing her. 

“Uh, yes. Hi. I mean, yeah, you can probably help me. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” 

The woman, a tall, statuesque, strawberry blonde, gave Beca a bemused look but held her polite smile. “Well, what exactly are you looking for?”

“Um. Jewelry?” Beca accidently phrased it like a question and the woman gave her another amused look.

“Then I’d say you came to right place.” She gestured with a manicured hand around the diamond jewelry store and beckoned Beca up to the glass case she was leaning against. “Why don’t you just start by telling me any details or thoughts you have?”

The woman was being polite but Beca sensed the question she really wanted to ask was _can you even afford to be here?_

“Right. Okay. No rings then.” Beca said quickly. 

“Alright, that’s fine. We have a lovely selection of necklaces,” a dark burgundy, painted nail tapped on the glass display to her right, “and a beautiful assortment of earrings over on the side wall. Is it for an older person, we have a truly unique collection of brooches?”

“Dude, no. It’s uh, for my girlfriend.” Beca sort of coughed and kicked the toe of her boot while she said it. When she looked up into the saleswoman’s face after she thought, if she wasn’t mistaken, that her smile had become a little more genuine. 

“Excellent. Well you definitely came to the right place. Birthday? Anniversary?” Beca looked stricken for a moment before merely shrugging. The woman chuckled lightly at her. “A just because kind of gift, hmm?” She leaned forward on the glass counter like she was telling a secret. “Those are my favourite kind. Why don’t you tell me about your girlfriend, and we’ll try to get a piece of jewelry to match.” 

“Oh. Um. Okay. Well,” _God what do I say,_ “at times she’s…bubbly. Like happy but almost too much. Perky.” The woman arched an eyebrow and gave Beca, wearing black jeans, biker boots, a tight muscle shirt and a leather jacket, a surprised look. “I know. But she’s also, I dunno, like elegant and shit. And refined. High class. Sometimes she’s playful and sometimes she’s laidback.” The saleswoman was smiling somewhat adoringly at Beca now and the shorter brunette flushed. “Er, or you know. Whatever.”

“Sounds like she’s got two different sides to her.”

Beca smirked. “You have no fucking idea.”

“Okay, well that’s fine. My thought then is you should get a timeless piece of jewelry. One that goes with anything and can be worn for any occasion. Are you feeling more necklaces or earrings right now? How about a bracelet?” 

“Bracelet. Yeah, that sounds better.” 

“Lovely. If you’ll step over here?” She led Beca to another display and she used a key from the ring hanging on her wrist to open up the back of the counter. “This is what instantly came to mind. This piece,” she pulled out a velvet cushion holding a bracelet and set it on top for Beca to see, “is a diamond tennis bracelet in sterling silver. As you can see these are round miracle diamond accents to truly radiate the optimal shimmer. The diamond total weight is .75 with a guaranteed stone carat value between .50 and 1 for each individual stone. As we discussed this is a truly timeless piece that can be dressed up or dressed down and match with any style.” When she looked up and Beca just blinked at her she chuckled lightly again. “Honestly, I can’t imagine any woman being disappointed with this piece.”

“Perfect. How much?” 

Now the saleswoman blinked in shock a little but she recovered smoothly. “Retail value on this piece is $829.00.” 

“Lord. Uh, yeah, that’s fine I guess.”

“Excellent.” She was beaming now. “If you’ll just wait one moment while I polish and box this up for you, I’ll get you settled at the cash register.”

Beca idly wandered around the store looking at the different pieces and rolling her eyes at some of the even more exuberant price tags. The saleswoman lightly cleared her throat to bring her back over to the cash register. She handed over a small, elegant black and white bag with a bow on it. “I fancied up the wrapping for you a little.” She smiled.

“Uh, thanks dude.” Beca reached for the bag awkwardly. 

“Will that be debit or credit?”

“Cash.” The saleswoman blinked as Beca dug in her laptop bag for her wallet and pulled out a small roll of hundreds. She settled down some when Beca handed the large bills over easily and she rang the purchase through with a smile. “Perfect, $68.43 is your change, and have yourself a wonderful day.” She leaned closer and Beca saw her more genuine smile once more. “I promise she’s going to adore it.”

“Thanks. Uh, I’m Beca Michaels by the way. I never caught your name?”

“Viktoria. Viktoria Chase.”

“Thanks for your help, Viktoria.” Beca gave a nod and turned to leave the store. 

“Any time, Beca.”

“Oh, one more thing.” Beca paused half out of the door like she’d just remembered. “You said you polished this up for me. Do you do after sale diamond jewelry cleanings by any chance?”

Viktoria gave her a wide smile. “I sure do.”

**

“I fucking figured it out!” Beca announced loudly as she, for once, strolled right into Chloe’s house in her excitement. “I’m a fucking genius.” Both women, sitting at the kitchen table together, had jumped in surprise. Beca shimmied her body a little on her way over. “I’m the fucking best.” She boasted again. “Oh, and this is for you guys.” She carelessly tossed the small sales bag on the table. “You guys can fight over it or share it or whatever.” Beca stripped off her laptop bag and her jacket and found them now staring at her with jaws dropped. “What?” Now that her excitement was fading she shuffled awkwardly under their stares. 

Aubrey gathered herself first. “When you said you figured it out, did you mean-”

“Is this what I think it is?” Chloe completely cut Aubrey off as she wiggled happily in her seat. “Awh, Becs.” She instantly started removing the bow and Aubrey, even while shaking her head, watched her fondly. 

“Dude, calm down. It’s just a thing.”

Chloe’s loud squeal overpowered any other proclamations Beca was about to make; the investigator had barely blinked but somehow Chloe was already wearing the sparkling, diamond bracelet and she squealed again. “Oh Aubrey look at it! Beca, it’s gorgeous.”

Beca coughed. “Well, remind me to thank Viktoria Chase for her taste in jewelry then.” Chloe was too busy ogling the piece but Aubrey caught the name. 

“Viktoria Chase as in Julian Creemore’s girlfriend?”

“The very same. I’d bet my fucking Ninja that Helena _does_ have proof of the affair. Because she’s fucking paying Viktoria to do it. Do him.” Beca scrunched her face up in disgust. “You know what I mean.”

“And how did you figure this out?” Chloe asked; apparently she could still pay attention to her girlfriends while happily stroking her new gift. 

“Viktoria Chase told me that her business offers after sale diamond cleanings. But I checked and the company doesn’t. They only polish the diamonds right at purchase. Viktoria has a tiny, itty bitty side business where people can come in and get their jewelry cleaned and she polishes it and pockets all the cash.”

“And this led you to knowing Helena is paying her to have sex with Creemore, how?”

“Helena Dunham has spent 500 dollars each month for the past 13 months on diamond jewelry cleanings.”

“That seems exorbitant.” Aubrey muttered.

“Of course it is, but I’m used to dealing with crazy rich millionaires and even though I noticed it and remarked on how ridiculous it was, I didn’t think anything of it. Now, for the first ten months the address attached to the jewelry cleanings was a place on Courtland Street that actually does do jewelry cleanings. Then, three months ago, it changed to that place.” She nodded at the bag Chloe had pulled apart in her excitement. “I completely overlooked it because the monetary charge hadn’t changed and seeing a charge for jewelry cleaning wasn’t a new or different expense. But I caught it this time, and who should I find is a salesperson at that particular location?”

“Viktoria Chase.” Aubrey grinned at her girlfriend. “You are good, Beca.”

The investigator shrugged. “On my way home I called the store back and said my girlfriend had asked about the price of that jewelry cleaning service and she told me 20 bucks a piece. Unless Helena is bringing every piece of jewelry she owns to get cleaned, I would say Viktoria is taking that money for some _other_ service.”

Aubrey, at heart a lawyer, tried to contradict Beca’s statement. “You’ve already said she’s a crazy, rich millionaire. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that she _does_ bring many pieces to get cleaned at a time.”

Beca smirked. “500 dollar charges at 20 bucks a pop and no tax is 25 pieces of jewelry. I hacked the store surveillance camera and found the footage of the last time Helena was in store. No bag, no purse. Just a small handheld clutch. You think a rich millionaire crams her jewelry into a clutch or her pants pockets?” 

Aubrey looked a little surprised by Beca’s thoroughness but her eyes were gleaming at the banter. She conceded the point and then looked like she was trying to think even further ahead. “So what does this mean for you now? You’ve almost completed your job, you have compelling reason to believe that Helena does in fact have evidence of Creemore’s affair. If she doesn’t yet, she certainly has the means to get it soon.”

“I’ll need to hack Helena and Viktoria’s computers. One of them has the proof. Definitely Viktoria first. Why haven’t they moved forward yet?” Beca was thinking out loud. “Maybe the repeat payments are blackmail? She’s holding the proof over Helena’s head until she gets more money?”

Aubrey shook her head lightly. “You said the payments have come at the same time and in the same amounts. Blackmail would be a sudden, larger amount.”

“True.” Beca agreed with her girlfriend’s assessment. “I’m not sure why then.” She grinned self-consciously. “Okay, maybe I figured everything out except for the things that don’t make sense.”

“Maybe they’re stuck in holding.” Chloe shrugged. Beca and Aubrey swung their gazes over to the redhead. She had taken the bracelet and switched wrists so she could admire it on the other arm. She noticed they were waiting for an explanation and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. I just meant, well, we’re stuck in holding aren’t we? Beca can’t do anything until Luke gets back to her. Maybe Helena is stuck in some kind of holding too.”

Aubrey walked over and stroked Chloe’s cheek before kissing her. “Very possibly. I’m not sure what the hold-up would be though.”

“Hopefully I’ll find out tomorrow when I break into Viktoria’s apartment.” 

**

Viktoria Chase lived in a three story, red-bricked apartment building on Glendale Terrace in Midtown. It was an apartment heavy street and all the parking lots between buildings were crowded so Beca drove her own Ninja but she parked it two lots over. 

Chloe and Aubrey had teased her when she said she had to go home first and get in her burglary outfit. They had been picturing black spandex and a balaclava; Beca was actually wearing blue jeans, a black Georgia State University hoody and her over the ear headphones. She had traded in her laptop bag for a generic black and blue backpack and was wearing old Chucks instead of her motorcycle boots. 

The building was only decent, not rundown but not high class either, and it afforded several opportunities for Beca and only one obstacle; one needed a magnetic swipe card to get inside the building. 

Beca walked confidently, swaying her head slightly from side to side, almost right up the stairs to the doors. There, Beca leaned against the railing and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her bag and a lighter from her pocket. Beca dutifully lit her smoke and then pulled out her phone to scroll on it as she waited. Beca ashed her cigarette occasionally but she didn’t truly smoke it. The only smoking she did was some pot at a gathering with Jesse when he convinced her to go; it was usually only once a year. 

She lounged on the railing for a while; stubbing out her cigarette and lighting another one and miming a long phone call at one point. When the door finally banged open from the inside Beca heard it coming because her headphones actually hadn’t been playing any music. She had already stubbed out the smoke and flicked it away as she absently agreed to the person she was fake talking to on the phone. When the man stepped out the door Beca was just in the process of reaching into her bag, presumably for her magnetic card, and he politely held it open for her with a nod. 

Beca nodded but said nothing as she ducked into the apartment building. From this point Beca knew there was basically no security. They had no alarm systems in place and no cameras. Only the key locks on the individual doors were there to stop a person; and that wouldn’t slow Beca down very long. 

She jogged up the stairs easily to the third floor, for there were no elevators in the building, and a quick glance at the descending numbers led her to the left to find apartment 4C. Beca didn’t waste time knocking and pretending to wait like she had a month ago at Chloe’s. She knew Viktoria lived alone, the apartment was only a one bedroom, there were no neighbours possibly watching, and she knew Viktoria was at one of her many jobs. She had even posted Benji, her on-call homeless boy, armed with a sub, a water and a bag of chips across the street from Moe’s Southwest Grill to make sure she stayed there. 

Beca slipped her backpack from her shoulders and dropped it against the door at her feet. She leaned over, slipped on black leather gloves and pulled out her lockpicks. She turned her back to the hallway so she better hid what she was doing to the doorknob but it only took a minute for the lock to turn and Beca to slip inside. She put her picks back in her bag, grabbed her bug sweeper, and then slung the bag back on her shoulders. She didn’t set anything down; she made sure there was never any chance of her leaving something behind in a marks home.

She swept the whole apartment before she did anything else inside. Viktoria’s apartment was smaller than Beca’s own but admittedly filled with more things. It was essentially a large room that was both kitchen and living room and then two other doors; one the bedroom and one the bathroom. She had a decent living room set that was charcoal grey in colour and a mid-sized television. Beside the TV was a rack housing hundreds of DVD’s. The TV stand itself, which Beca poked around in, had an older generation Playstation and a dozen video games. Behind the game console Beca arched an eyebrow at an old VCR; she wondered if Viktoria still had a stash of VHS’s somewhere. 

The glass coffee table was absolutely littered with magazines and Beca took quick mental note of how they were arranged before she leafed through them all. There were a dozen different gossip magazines, 2 Cosmopolitans, 2 Rolling Stones, a Billboard, an Elle, a Top Gear and a National Geographic. _Very varied taste maybe? Or do you entertain somebody here Viktoria?_

Relying on her memory Beca put the magazines basically back how she found them. She moved over to peruse the other shelves taking up wall space in Viktoria’s living room. If the woman had an organizational system Beca couldn’t figure out what it was. Some shelves held books in no discernible order, she found some of the Harry Potter series on one shelf and the last two books on another with no sign of the fourth book whatsoever, and other shelves held even more DVD’s. Some shelves were filled with random knickknacks, like an Eiffel Tower snowglobe and a keychain from NYC, while there was a stack of puzzle boxes on the floor. 

Beca quickly checked the small, corner kitchen table but moved on to Viktoria’s bedroom with the aim of finding her laptop when the table proved bare. She was fairly certain that Viktoria didn’t have it on her; she’d watched her walk into her waitressing job and peered in the windows of her car in the parking lot and never seen it. 

Viktoria’s double bed and oak dresser took up almost all of the space in the tiny bedroom. The sheets on the bed were pulled up, but not made, and the laundry hamper was full of clothes but there were no articles otherwise lying around. 

Beca checked her small nightstand first; she moved an Advil bottle and a couple books and awkwardly closed her hand around the woman’s vibrator. It was a lime green one and a fairly average size and girth; not that Beca was judging. She clicked the button at the base and nothing happened. _Use this too much, Vik?_ Beca unscrewed the base and checked it; there were no batteries at all. Now Beca paused; the only time something in her apartment would have no batteries at all is because she didn’t use it and had stolen the batteries to power something else when she was too lazy to go buy more. _Or not. Guess you’re getting some elsewhere._ She screwed the base back on and replaced the woman’s sex toy; she wiped her leather gloves off on the duvet just in case. 

It was in the closet that Beca finally found her laptop. Her laptop bag was sitting on the floor inside and Beca slid to her knees to pull it out. She was curious about the placement of the device. While Beca had several, one of her laptops, her non work one, was always on the coffee table in her apartment; and usually plugged in at that. It was Beca’s money laptop she used for wiring funds that she hid in her own closet. _Got something to hide?_

She powered the device on while she pulled her trusty orange USB stick from her keys. The computer was password protected but the security was basic and Beca had control over the device in minutes. She normally didn’t take the time to check out the computer still in the house but the apartment was small, she was almost done, and even if Benji alerted her that Viktoria was leaving work at this minute Beca still had plenty of time to gather herself and leave. With that thought in mind she cracked her knuckles and got to work. 

Beca growled under her breath some thirty minutes later. There was no proof of adultery on the laptop; there were no pictures of Creemore at all. Beca had gone through every file, document, picture and video and there was nothing. Viktoria took drunk photos with girls and pictures with friends in various locations but other than some scantily clad people there was nothing illicit about them. Her documents were all resumes and cover letters and several aborted attempts at writing a screenplay. Beca had even taken the time to skim read over each writing attempt in case the story of Creemore and Helena was hidden in the details but she’d come up blank. The scripts seemed to all focus on debts and the paying back of favours. Beca had scoured over the entire laptop and found nothing except that Viktoria was a decent writer and she liked to play Zoo Tycoon. She copied everything over on her black USB stick anyway, in case she needed to go over the files later, and then shut down the laptop again. 

Once it was hidden back in the closet Beca left the bedroom as she’d found it. Out of habit she headed for the kitchen. Viktoria’s apartment had no dish washer so there were a few dishes in the sink waiting; one bowl and one spoon but two coffee mugs. She lifted both mugs and used her gloved, pinky finger to wipe the inside rim and bottoms of the mugs to see if one was just older than the other and had been sitting there longer; it hadn’t. _Who did you have over for coffee this morning, Vik?_

Beca reached for the fridge and froze dead. Her hand hung still, outstretched for the handle, and her jaw literally dropped. There, stuck on the fridge, was a photograph. It was the only thing decorating the fridge; there were no other pictures, no schedules or reminders or even fancier magnets with witty sayings. The photo was held onto the fridge by a simple, circle magnet that was barely doing its job causing the picture to hang somewhat crooked. Beca’s hand was still outstretched as she stared, trying to even process and reason about what she was seeing in the photograph.

The photograph that changed everything.

Beca finally snapped out of her stupor and tore into her pocket for her phone. She didn’t dare move the photo; it’s position dead centre and alone on the fridge made Beca suspect any movement to it would be noticed. She used the camera on her phone and snapped several pictures of the photo. She then took the time to calmly email the photo to herself, to two different accounts, and then text it to one of her other phones she knew was safely in her apartment. 

Beca was quick to leave the apartment after that; there was nothing more she could possibly learn more important than the photo. She scanned the apartment and found nothing amiss; Viktoria should never know she was in here. She opened her door, flicked the lock and the handle back and forth multiple times and then locked it and closed it behind her. 

She had only made it to the stairwell when her phone started ringing. _That_ phone. 

“What?”

“Thought you’d be happy to hear from me.” Luke chided in a teasing voice. “I’ve got news.”

“What?” Beca was hustling, but not running, down the second flight of stairs. 

“Crane agreed to meet with you. He’s confused, bloody hell I’m confused, but he said he’d meet with you on Friday here at my office at the firm.”

Beca felt instantly elated, _finally in three days we can start getting Aubrey divorced!_ , and then her heart stuttered to a stop in her chest. She pushed through the doors of the apartment building at a jog, put her head down and hurried to where she’d parked her Ninja. She was trying to think, trying to figure out her best plan for moving forward, but Luke was breathing in her ear and Beca didn’t have enough time to figure everything out. “I’ll meet him.” She made a snap decision. “I need to talk to Julian Creemore too. Make sure he’s at the meeting.”

Luke barked out a laugh like Beca was joking. “Nice, Becky.” Beca didn’t say anything. “Beca. I don’t _tell_ Julian Creemore anything. I don’t tell Thomas Crane anything either. I asked and tried to explain and it was a miracle I got you that meeting with him personally. Now you want Mr. Creemore too? I hope you realize that your…security,” he cleared his throat, “your _job_ security, rather, is on the line with this?” 

“Yes.” Beca threw her leg over her Ninja. “My cases intersected, okay? Tell them if they want to know about their wives then they’ll take the fucking meeting.” Beca hung up the phone with shaking hands. 

She had to get to Chloe and Aubrey.

**

“I still don’t know if this is the right plan.” Chloe fretted; the slight shaking in her voice betrayed her nerves. 

“Chloe, we talked about this.” Aubrey used her courtroom voice; Beca knew it was because with her own nerves she reverted to her lawyer persona naturally. “We weighed the pros and cons of each decision and this is the route we have to take. It’s the most logical-”

“Logic my ass.” Chloe hissed. “This could be disastrous for everybody.”

“Chloe-”

“Guys. We’re here, and we’re doing this.” Beca’s voice was serious and sharp; it was the first time her girlfriends had ever heard her use that tone. They were far more used to the awkward, bumbling Beca; not Private Investigator Mitchell. “My meeting with Crane and Creemore is tomorrow so we no longer have any choice.” 

Beca led the way into the building with Chloe and Aubrey at her back. Beca scanned the room quickly and didn’t see anything amiss; so far, everything was going according to her haphazard, mish-mash of a plan. She had essentially combined two different ideas into one and right now was going to be the moment they discovered if it was going to work. Beca wanted nothing more in the world than for it to work; she had made a decision and taken charge and now she absolutely could not let Chloe and Aubrey down.

She wouldn’t.

The last time Beca had been in Luce’s Piano Bar she didn’t really think she’d ever be back; she definitely didn’t think she’d be back with Chloe and Aubrey. She led her two girls to seats at the bar in an advantageous position and signalled the bartender for a round of drinks. It was the same 20 something bartender that had served Beca for hours before and he nodded to her in recognition. 

“Hey dude, I never caught your name last time.”

“It’s Donald.” He slid a rye and ginger over to her and asked Chloe and Aubrey for their orders.

“Say Donald, I brought my friends over to see Evangeline,” Beca tilted her head towards the piano player, “she been playing for a while?”

“Actually yeah, I think this is her last song before her break. But it shouldn’t be too long until she gets playing again.”

“No problem.” Beca smirked. _Like clockwork._ “Okay.” Beca wished she could lean over and kiss both her girls; instead she clenched her jaw and cracked her neck. “Wish me luck.”

Aubrey nodded somberly but Chloe actually attempted a grin and wished her luck with a cute little wave.

Beca turned on her heel and walked directly over to a booth and plunked down. The burgundy leather of the booth was a little cracked and there was nothing on the table except a glass of white wine. The petite, elegant blonde woman, wearing an understated pant suit and blouse, startled at her forwardness. For the first time Beca looked Helena Dunham straight in the eye. 

“Excuse me,” Helena started, her voice was surprised and a little affronted but she was trying to stay polite, “I’m not actually looking for company-”

“Helena Dunham?” Beca kept her voice low. Helena’s posture changed and her face became suspicious. “My name is Beca Mitchell. I’m a Private Investigator and I was hired by your husband. Don’t.”

Helena slowly lowered her hands off the table and she sat back down in her seat. Beca noticed that the woman was trying to look at Beca and nothing else.

“I know Evangeline’s set is just about over.” Helena’s eyes widened. “Why don’t you call her over here so we can have a discussion.” Right on cue, Beca heard the last notes of the smooth jazz number that had been playing fade away. “Mrs. Dunham, believe it or not I’m trying to help you right now and I don’t want a scene either. Please, call her over.”

Helena’s face had gone pale and Beca thought for one second she would actually be sick. The woman’s mind was clearly racing but Beca had taken her completely off guard. 

“Helena.” Beca’s voice was low; she didn’t plead with anyone but her girls but she was trying to make this woman understand. “I am meeting with Creemore tomorrow morning. I think you’ll want to talk to me before then.”

The wait was insufferable; Helena just stared at Beca in fear and Beca stared back. Finally, with a ragged exhale, Helena broke. Her eyes flit over to the piano and Evangeline, who had clearly been reading the tension between them, was over in a second. 

“Evangeline Turris? We haven’t been introduced before, my name is Beca Mitchell, I’m the Private Investigator that works for Julian Creemore.” Beca watched the beautiful auburn haired woman pale. “So you do know who that is, good. Please, sit.”

Helena was growing more rigid the more scared Evangeline looked. Beca wasn’t taking any pleasure in scaring them but she knew the kind of people Crane and Creemore were, and the kind of people they hired, and they could not afford to get this wrong. 

“What do you want?” Helena growled out with clenched teeth. 

“I told you, to help you. I was hired by Julian Creemore, and I think you know exactly why. Creemore thought that you had become aware of his affairs and he wanted confirmation. Helena, I found your prenup. If you have proof of an affair you get half his fortune. I also know that you, morally, ethically or emotionally, don’t actually care about his affairs because you’ve been having your own.” Beca’s eyes flit to Evangeline. The pianist hadn’t ever dealt with a situation like this, or clearly with the people that Beca and Helena were used to dealing with, because she was shaking visibly. Beca could read the desire in Helena’s eyes to comfort her but the woman held herself stiff. 

“What is your point?” Helena eventually bit out. 

Beca leaned forward on the cheap wooden table. “I think you and I both know that Julian Creemore won’t let it get to the point of losing half his fortune. So I understand why you’re both scared. I haven’t gone to Creemore to tell him yet, and if everything goes to plan tonight I won’t have to.”

Helena’s hands clenched. “Don’t you dare threaten me.” For a second Beca truly believed that the high class, rich woman would actually haul back and strike her physically if provoked enough.

“I’m not threatening you. I’m stating a fact.” Beca didn’t outwardly react. 

Helena’s eyes narrowed. “Your facts are wrong. I have no proof of Julian’s affairs.” 

To Helena’s surprise, Beca nodded. “I know that too. Something about this case wasn’t making sense the whole time. I was clearly missing something and it was driving me crazy. Until I figured it out.”

Evangeline reached out and laid a trembling hand on Helena’s arm. “It’s okay.” Helena didn’t take her eyes off Beca. “She’s just trying to scare us.”

“That’s exactly what I’m not trying to do.” Beca stated. Helena had sat on the inside of the booth so she had the best view of the piano, and Evangeline, but from that side she hadn’t been able to see the entrance to Luce’s; but Beca had. Beca knew who had just walked in and was making their way over to the booth. Helena didn’t notice until the newcomer was standing right at their table. “Ms. Chase, why don’t you have a seat and join us.”

Viktoria Chase was shaking almost as hard as Evangeline but for an entirely different reason. Evangeline was scared; Viktoria was livid. Her strawberry blonde hair was thrown up in a no-nonsense messy bun and she was just wearing jeans, a tight t-shirt and a dark blue, unzipped sweatshirt. Viktoria was glaring at Beca and didn’t sit. “You.” The word was spat. “You leave me a message and demand that I show up here at a certain time and threaten me if I don’t. Tell me why I shouldn’t just phone the cops or something, huh?” The polite voice and the amused smile from their first meeting were long gone; she was glaring down at Beca in contempt. 

“I know about your side business at the jewelry store.” Beca said instead of answering her question. “And I’m trying to help, please sit down.” Viktoria glared at her and then finally did. She sat beside Evangeline, so that Beca was alone on her side of the booth, and her spine was ramrod straight with every muscle locked. “Your side business jewelry cleanings is how I found out Helena has been paying you. It made perfect sense. It’s why I was so sure Helena would have the proof she needed to divorce him and get the money. She’s been paying you for three months, and you’ve been dating Julian Creemore for three months.”

Helena and Evangeline’s gazes snapped over to Viktoria. Helena looked like her mind was racing but the pianist was floored. “What?”

A muscle in Viktoria’s jaw jumped as she clenched her teeth roughly. 

“But then why did Helena have no proof? Why did you have no proof?” Beca shook her head and almost chuckled. “Because there wasn’t any. She wasn’t paying you for anything. I didn’t realize you’d gone to school to be a writer, Ms. Chase. You’re not bad either, by the way. Your debt is outrageous though, no wonder you work like five jobs. Still isn’t enough though, is it? You’ve been short the last three months. Short about 500 bucks if I’m not mistaken.” Beca let her gaze slide to Helena. “You weren’t paying her for any service at all, you were just giving it to her. Just because you cared.” Beca’s voice had gotten softer.

“And you.” Beca met Viktoria’s stare again; she looked like she was biting through her lip to stop the tears. “Helena didn’t ask you to date Creemore so she could get proof. She’d never ask that of you. You just felt like shit, didn’t you? Needing to take her money because you couldn’t support yourself. You saw doing this for her, getting her divorce and getting the money for her, as paying her back what you owed. As returning the favour. I read your attempted screenplays if I’m being honest.” Beca paused to give them a second. Viktoria was trying her best to remain stoic; she was a drastic counterpoint to Evangeline who was now crying openly. Helena remained still in fear; she looked both scared and sick. “But I also know why you haven’t managed to get any evidence yet.” Beca’s voice was currently soft and slow like she was talking to a wounded, cornered animal. “I backtracked all of your dates with Creemore. Looked through hundreds of hours of surveillance videos. There wasn’t as many dates as I thought there’d be, you’re both busy people I guess. Lots of restaurants and shows. He liked to wine and dine you, right? Trying to flaunt his money and impress? No hotels though. And I know you’ve never been to his house and he’s _definitely_ never been to yours.” Viktoria’s first sob broke through her lips. 

Beca slowly reached into her ever present laptop bag and pulled out a glossy, 4x6 photograph; it was a beautiful, canid picture. 

Helena Dunham was lying naked in the middle of a large, queen sized bed. The sheets, a dark, royal purple, were twisted and tangled around her body and keeping her mostly modest in the picture. The camera had flashed and caught Helena rolling her eyes, though there was no mistaking the loving and fond smile that was quirking at her lips. 

Evangeline Turris was lying at Helena’s side, tucked along the length of her body. Her hair was wildly dishevelled and it was easy to see the flush along her chest. A dark blue, unzipped, baggy hoody was draped around her body like she’d picked it up off the floor from where it had been discarded. Her face was tilted back and the camera had captured her in the midst of laughing uninhibitedly. Her long, elegant, pianist fingers were in the air aloft like she’d been playing in the air for her audience. 

An audience that included yet another woman.

Viktoria Chase was laying perpendicular to the other two and her head was pillowed low on Helena’s pelvic bone. Her one hand was draped above her body so that she could run her fingertips along Evangeline’s naked ribcage. Her other hand was straight up in the air and she was clearly taking the picture. The smile lighting her face was almost blinding and she winked playfully at the camera.

Helena reached out with a shaking hand and touched the picture gently. “How much do you want?”

Beca sighed. “I don’t want your money. I told you, I’m here to help. And I even brought some proof of my own that I was being serious.” Beca glanced up at the bar and met the two gazes of her very worried girlfriends. She gestured them over to come sit with her.

Evangeline and Viktoria clearly had no idea who the two women now sitting beside Beca were; but Helena knew the importance of one of them. “Mrs. Posen.” Her voice was strangled, and shocked, and Beca was impressed that it wasn’t shaking as badly as her hands.

Aubrey smiled politely. “It’ll be Ms. soon, actually.”

Helena’s jaw dropped. She leaned over closer to the centre of the table. “You’re going to try and divorce Thomas?” 

“Not try.” Aubrey’s voice was firm. “I am going to. Thanks to Beca.” She shot her brunette girlfriend a subtle, and yet still fond, smile. 

“Helena,” Beca leaned back now and tried to seem more relaxed than she really was, “before I was hired by your husband, I was hired by Thomas Crane. He wanted me to find out if his wife was having an affair. I found out pretty easily that she was.”

Helena looked at Aubrey in concern. “Thomas knows? You know what they’re like…”

“Crane doesn’t know.” Beca interrupted. “Because I haven’t told him yet. I meet with him tomorrow at the same time I meet with your husband.”

Helena looked decidedly confused. “And…you’re going to tell him?”

“I’m going to tell him that Aubrey is most definitely having an affair and divorcing him. I will also inform him he’s going to allow it or else the information I have on him and his illegal dealings with a company called VenRon will be sent to the police and the media.” Beca couldn’t help her smug smile when Chloe subtly laid her hand on her thigh under the table. She looked Helena full in the face. “And I’m willing to offer the same opportunity to you.”

“ _What?_ ”

Viktoria glanced at Helena with a worried expression. “What is she talking about, Lena?”

“Honestly,” Beca started, “when I promised Aubrey I would find proof of Crane doing something illegal I thought it would be something related to his criminal practice. Witness intimidation or jury tampering maybe. Possibly even payoffs to cops and judges. Instead I found money laundering. Whatever,” Beca shrugged, “illegal is illegal. But I thought it was weird he was into some white-collar shit.” Helena gasped as she clearly caught on. “Of course, if you have a partner specializing in white-collar crimes to help you, maybe it isn’t so weird.”

Viktoria’s eyes were near her hairline. “Julian is actually breaking the law? But he’s a lawyer.” Aubrey and Helena scoffed in unison.

“Honey, I’ve told you.” Helena leaned around Evangeline to stroke Viktoria’s arm. “Rich people are sometimes rich for a reason, and power and wealth always make someone dangerous.” Helena’s face crumpled and a tear finally broke. “That’s why I didn’t want you anywhere near him.”

Viktoria was trying to stay strong. “I just wanted to help.”

Beca cleared her throat. “I have proof. Crane is just using his contacts in the criminal world and taking his cut; he brings in the customers. But Creemore set this operation up. I suspect it was actually a struck bargain. A client of his three years ago had a similar operation before he was arrested. The charges were dropped and the client fled and my guess is Creemore took over running VenRon. He brought in his shady partner, Crane, to bring in more criminals to launder money and they’ve been making bank ever since.”

“You,” Helena cleared her throat in disbelief, “you have actual proof of this?”

“I do.” Beca nodded. “Same deal as Aubrey. When I meet with your husbands tomorrow I’ll give the ultimatums and we know they’ll choose quiet divorce over messy criminal charges. You can get your divorce.”

Helena burst into tears now and Evangeline pulled her into her embrace instantly. She cooed softly into her hair and whispered to the emotional woman. Viktoria had tears streaming down her cheeks too but she still watched Beca warily. “And you don’t want anything for this?”

“No.” Beca glanced over at Chloe and Aubrey. “I’ve got everything I need.” 

Viktoria’s eyes narrowed in confusion until Chloe shifted and the light glinted off her diamond bracelet. Viktoria’s eyes widened in recognition and then a small, albeit genuine, smile broke across her features. “Bubbly _and_ refined, hmm?” 

Beca blushed and shifted in her seat. “Shut up, dude.”

Viktoria laughed and, clearly feeling more at ease, slid over to wrap an arm around both her girlfriends. 

Chloe smiled at their easy affection; it was so easy for the redhead, when others were happy so was she. “I’m told I have you to thank for our stunning new bracelet.”

Viktoria smiled. “Any time. And you are?”

Instead of really answering, Chloe smiled and tilted her head at Evangeline. “I’m her.” 

The strawberry blonde gingers shared a smile together until Helena pulled away from the embrace she’d been tucked in. “You said you’re the P.I contracted to the firm though? How do you plan to get out of the meeting safely?”

Aubrey and Chloe stiffened and it was impossible to miss. Viktoria looked concerned for the trio at the implication. Beca tried with everything she had to keep her own worry off her face because her girls needed her to be the sure one. “It’ll be okay, I have like ten hours still before the meeting. I just need to find evidence of their illegal activity that links back to the firm itself.”

“Crane is like, the all-American boy, right?” Viktoria spoke up; every head turned to stare at her. “Douchey brown hair, gray eyes, square jaw?”

Aubrey almost laughed but held it in. “That would be him, yes.”

Viktoria smirked at Beca. “I think I can help with that.” It only took two minutes of explanation for Beca and Viktoria to be jumping from the booth.

“We’ve gotta go but we’ll be back.” Viktoria leaned down and shared innocuous cheek kisses with Evangeline and Helena. Both looked worried and Viktoria flashed them a confident grin.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I know for sure.” Beca whispered as she leaned down to say goodbye to her own girls. Chloe stroked her face gently with the back of her hand and Aubrey caressed the inside of Beca’s wrist with her thumb before they let her go. “It’ll be fine.”

Beca was four steps away from the booth when she suddenly turned on her heel and came back. “Almost forgot.” She rummaged in her laptop bag and then dropped a manila envelope down on the table. 

“What’s this?” Helena reached for it and opened it to peer inside. She pulled out a stack of photographs. Her eyebrows jumped into her hairline; Evangeline peeked around Helena’s shoulder to see but instantly scrunched her face up in disgust. 

“ _That_ would be a woman by the name of Gretchen Rickards. A truly terrible, awful, possibly husband killing, praying mantis of a woman if there ever was one. A woman I truly have no guilt about ousting.” Beca smirked. “And I’m sure you can recognize your husband.” 

**

When Beca arrived at Luke’s office the three men were already waiting for her; and none of them were happy about it. Thomas Crane was pacing back and forth. He had removed his suit jacket, unbuttoned his sleeves to roll them up and loosened his tie. Beca was sure he had a different side, to show clients and jury’s, but right now he gave the impression of a rabid dog. Bile welled in Beca’s mouth at the thought of Aubrey being forced to share a life, a home, _a bed_ , with the aggressive lout she was watching now.

If Crane was the brutish dog than Julian Creemore was the wolf. His suit was still immaculate and he sat easily with one leg crossed over and resting on his knee; only his eyes gave away his displeasure as he tracked her across the room. He was less physically intimidating than Crane. He gave the impression of a shrewd hunter; never blindly attacking and never attacking alone. While Beca could actually picture Crane beating up a witness in an alley, the same could not be said about Creemore. While just as dangerous, Beca suspected that he needed his pack behind him to do his dirty work.

Luke Troma was just as angry but he also showed some fear; he was definitely the runt of this group. Still in the hunt and still just as much to blame but the only spoils that came his way were given to him by his superiors. Luke clearly knew that if Beca blew this meeting, which he had set up, most of the fault would be rolling his way too. 

“Becky.” Luke kept his voice even but the grip he had on her bicep was sure to bruise. Beca had to fight the urge to yank her arm away from him. “I’m sure you’ve got a good reason for being late.”

Beca ignored him. “I was hired to do a job, and now those cases have been joined.”

Creemore’s eyes narrowed in a calculating manner; Crane nearly exploded.

“I was told you said the case was over! That my wife wasn’t having an affair.” Crane physically puffed himself up and took a threatening step forward. 

“She is.” Beca said bluntly as she reached for her laptop bag. “So is your wife.” She nodded to Creemore. “And they’re both filing for divorce.”

“The fuck they are.” Crane snarled. Creemore actually raised a hand.

“Hold on now, Thomas. I want to hear what she has to say.” His voice was polite and even. Beca felt a shiver run down her spine at Helena being married to such a cold fish. “Is that the proof of affair?” He asked about the documents in Beca’s hand. 

“No.” She handed them over to Luke. “That’s actually a breakdown of the illegal activity involving VenRon Shares Corporation with both of your names on it.” 

Luke flipped through the pages frantically. “What the hell is this, Becky?”

“Do our wives know this information?” Creemore asked calmly while Crane paced. 

“They do.”

Crane stepped closer to her again and pointed a finger at her. “Then do your fucking job, and destroy the evidence. We can takes care of those bitches ourselves, but the proof can’t ever be found.” 

Beca’s eyes narrowed and her body felt cold. “You won’t, actually. You’ll give your wives the divorces they want, never have anything to do with them again and never hire anyone to do anything to them either.” Beca took a shuddering breath and sealed her fate. “Or I will personally hand that evidence over to the police. After I’ve handed it over to every news outlet in the state, of course.”

“Beca. What are you doing?” Luke hissed.

“You fucking cunt.” Crane snarled. Creemore actually stood and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Calm down, Thomas. We don’t need an assault charge on top of this situation.” He turned his eyes on Beca and the brunette swallowed reflexively; he seemed to stare right through her like she wasn’t even worth his gaze. “You know this is your job, correct. You just threw away your career, your reputation…everything you are.” Beca knew that if Creemore had his way Beca wouldn’t see morning. “How did our wives convince you to turn on the hand that has been feeding you?”

“Actually, his wife convinced me. His wife and her mistress.” Crane snarled when she glanced over at him. “Your wife, Creemore, just found herself conveniently in the same situation. Luke,” she turned to the pale British man who was staring at her wide-eyed, “plug this in for me, will you?” She handed Luke a green USB stick and he somewhat automatically plugged it into the computer. “His wife might be the reason this is happening, but it’s your wife I have to thank for the job I’ll still have after this.” Beca said lightly. She clicked the only video file on the USB. 

It showed a tastefully, albeit slightly bare, decorated corner office. The furniture was all expensive looking antiques and the view out of the floor to ceiling windows was breathtaking. This particular view, though, was at dusk. “I’m sure you recognize your own office, Julian?” Beca snarked. As both men watched the video with clenched jaws Beca started feeling more confident. As the video played two figures walked into the office. One was Julian; the other was Viktoria Chase. 

He was showing off the office, and the view, to her and Beca wondered how anyone who had ever seen them together thought they were an item. Viktoria looked so uncomfortable and uneasy on the lawyers arm. She smiled somewhat brightly as Creemore gestured and said something clearly charming, but now that Beca had seen her _really_ smiling at Helena and Evangeline she thought the look fell seriously flat. 

“I’m not sure what about this office or this view is so impressive that you have to show a date, Julian.” Beca smirked; she could tell by the look on Creemore’s face that he remembered this particular night well. Sure enough, several seconds later, Crane entered the video frame. Creemore gestured for Viktoria to enjoy the view while they talked and Crane handed over a folder. “Shouldn’t have said the name VenRon out loud, Thomas. Or talked about it on firm property.” 

Crane audibly snarled and Beca enjoyed the exact moment that Creemore realized the only person who could have told Beca about this video. Beca decided to be a bit of a punk and smiled brightly at him. “But hey, you guys are getting off pretty easy if you ask me. Just two divorces and the process of finding a new Private Investigator. After giving a glowing recommendation to your previous one, of course.” She turned to Luke. “Consider this me handing in my resignation. Feel free to keep the documents and the video, I’ve got copies.” Beca turned her back on the three men and flipped them off over her shoulder as she left. “Later, dudes.”

**

Beca rolled her eyes with affection as Chloe licked her ice cream like it was the best treat she had ever been given. At first Beca thought getting ice cream cones was the redheads way of attempting to be seductive; instead it was her way of acting like a child. “Chlo, you’re getting your nasty bubblegum ice cream like,” she gestured at her entire face, “all over.” 

Chloe just beamed. 

“And why does it not surprise me, Posen, that you got mint chocolate chip. I called that back at the house.”

Aubrey arched an eyebrow. “Why does my ice cream flavour not surprise you, Mitchell?”

“Because it’s like the refined, trying to be classy, flavour of ice cream.” Beca tried to defend her words and Aubrey chuckled. 

“And what does your chocolate chip cookie dough say about you, hmm?”

“That I have taste, obviously.” Beca tried to be smooth but tripped on the sidewalk and Aubrey reached out a hand to steady her. “Whatever, my point stands.”

“Mhmm.” Aubrey grinned and continued walking. Beca had just started telling them that Viktoria had mentioned to her Evangeline wanting to get the six of them together for an evening when Chloe interrupted her. 

“Beca. Do you know what an atrial fibrillation is?”

“Um. No. I watch Grey’s but that doesn’t make me a doctor, Chlo.”

“It’s what happens to mine and Aubrey’s heart every time you walk up to us. Do you know what a supraventricular tachycardia is?”

“No.” Beca blushed, catching on to Chloe’s game, as the redhead continued.

“It’s what happens to us every time you get that look in your eye like you can’t get enough of us.” Chloe grinned. “Do you know what premature ventricular contractions are?” She didn’t even wait for the blushing Beca to say no this time. “It’s what happens to us every time you blush just like you are now, and Bree and I can’t even process how much we adore you.”

“Okay. Doctor speak working for you Chloe.” Beca tried to walk faster but Aubrey caught her arm.

“Hey, no being embarrassed and leaving when the woman is trying to pour our hearts out, Becs. I’m pretty sure there’s something in the Criminal Code about that. Yup,” she tapped her chin like she was thinking, “Section 854 subsection 3 clearly states that when one woman is trying to express how much she adores her short, snarky girlfriend, recipient of said affection must endure the cuteness until such moment as a) the woman is finished expressing her cuteness, or b) said snarky girlfriend realizes that her girlfriends adore her more than anything.”

Blushing madly now Beca mumbled something unintelligibly and walked quicker so that she was several paces ahead of her girlfriends. Chloe and Aubrey grinned adoringly at her back. Beca didn’t even turn around when she called over her shoulder.

“I love you awesome nerds.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have such a thing for Triple Treble, so I hope everyone enjoyed this. -JJ


End file.
